Commencement
by Crystal Cove
Summary: Accumulates Harry’s years at Hogwarts with Severus Snape as his adoptive father. Severus has relatives? Harry's in a different House? Sirius returns? Sequel to Bond. Discontinued -- sorry!
1. Introduction

**Summary: **Accumulates Harry's years at Hogwarts with Severus Snape as his adoptive father. Sequel to Bond.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything from Harry Potter. All characters that you see that aren't in the novels or movies, however, I _do _own.

**A/N:** Here's the sequel to Bond! I hope this chapter makes up for the lousy last one of Bond.

**Part 1 of 7**

**-**

**Chapter One**

Hogwarts definitely didn't change any, Harry noted as he and the rest of the first years walked through the Great Hall to get to the front of the room where McGonagall at the Sorting Hat were. The Great Hall, in Harry's opinion, looked immensely good. The Hall was lit with candles that hovered in the air, lighting the Hall up. When Harry glanced up, he saw the ceiling (that was enchanted to show the night sky), he found that it was calm out.

As they approached McGonagall and the hat, Harry felt nervousness cling to his stomach. Then, he stopped walking with the rest of the first years, but his stomach still did nervous flips. What if he was sorted into a house that made Severus ashamed? What if that did happen? He didn't want his guardian to be _ashamed. _

Harry glanced sideways at Draco Malfoy, who stood looking fantastically calm. Harry wished he was that calm. The other boy looked so _sure _of himself. Harry wondered that even if Draco looked calm on the outside, maybe on the inside Draco's stomach was doing flips, too.

He wished Nathaniel—or Slyther—was with him now. Instead, before the other students had arrived, Harry kept his snake, who was also his best friend, in Severus's chambers. That way Slyther wouldn't of said anything that would make him laugh during the Sorting Hat's song, because knowing Slyther, he would've had some witty comment that would make Harry laugh out loud.

Harry listened in to the song which the Sorting Hat was finishing. He clapped along with the rest of the students, then swallowed and wished that his stomach would stop doing flips and somersaults.

"I _know _I'm going to be put in Slytherin," Draco whispered to Harry confidently as Professor McGonagall called out a 'Abbot, Hannah.' "What do you think you're going to be put in, Harry?"

Harry looked at Draco and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Does it _really _matter what house you're put in?"

Draco's eyes widened. He looked stunned. "_Of course _it matters! I think I'd _die _if I was put in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Or worse—_Gryffindor._"

Harry gave a small shrug, but didn't say anything further. He didn't think Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor were bad houses. His parents were in Gryffindor when they attended Hogwarts.

Then, while McGonagall continued to call out names and the Hat continued to call out houses, Harry started to wonder what house he really wanted to be put in. Ravenclaw values intelligence, knowledge and wit. He wasn't exactly intelligent, so he immediately decided that he wouldn't be put in that house. What about Hufflepuff? They valued hard work and patience, loyalty and friendship, justice and fair play. He was a hard worker, and occasionally patient. He was loyal and friendly. He didn't know about justice, but he was a fair player, too. That house might be an option.

Then Harry thought about Gryffindor. They valued courage, chivalry and boldness. He didn't know whether or not he was courageous, or what chivalry meant, but he knew that at times he could be bold. And lastly—what about Slytherin? He knew that they were ambitious and cunning. Well, he could be ambitious at times. And cunning … could he be cunning? He didn't know.

Harry looked up what McGonagall called out Draco's name. They both exchanged grins before Draco walked up to the stool and sat down. Harry watched as McGonagall lowered the Hat, and barely touching his head, the Sorting Hat called out, "Slytherin!"

With a satisfied, proud smirk, Draco stepped off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down with two other boys.

Harry waited patiently as the other six or seven people were sorted into their houses, then at last the Professor called out "Potter-Snape, Harry."

With an uneasy feeling still clinging to the bottom of Harry's stomach as the Great Hall erupted with murmurs, Harry felt himself walk up to the stool and sit down. McGonagall set the Hat on his head, and the next second the rim of the hat was down over his eyes, causing Harry to see black all around.

Then Harry heard the Sorting Hat speak.

"Well … what have we here? Potter-Snape? Ah …" The Sorting Hat paused for a brief moment. Harry didn't care what house he was put in, as long as it was a house that he could do well in. "A house you could do well in? Well then, it ought to be … SLYTHERIN!"

There was a ephemeral silence before the Slytherin's started clapping loudly, then uncertainly, the rest of the houses joined in. The Hat was lifted from Harry's head, and Harry made his way to the Slytherin table. Since there were no more seats by Draco left, Harry sat down by a boy with dark brown eyes and chestnut colored hair.

The boy wordlessly looked up at Harry as he sat down, and Harry offered a small smile and said, "Hi. My name's Harry."

The boy, after a minute, nodded. "I know who you are. I'm Nicholas. Nicholas Nixon."

Then Nicholas looked up at Dumbledore, who said, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" and the dishes that were placed in front of them piled with enormous amounts of food.

Harry smiled. This wasn't the first time that he had seen this much of food, since he did eat here in the Great Hall last year.

"Wow," Harry heard Nicholas mutter before he started putting roast beef on his plate. Harry started doing the same, but was surprised when Nicholas decided to speak to him.

"Is your last name really Potter-Snape?" the boy asked. Harry nodded, and Nicholas started to look interested. "So Professor Snape _really _did adopt you?" Nicholas shook his head. "My brother said he did, but I didn't believe him. Even if it was in the _Daily Prophet._"

"Is your brother in Slytherin?" Harry asked, taking a bite of roast beef.

Nicholas nodded. "Yeah. Well, was. He graduated last year. What do you think of Snape as your adoptive father? Is he nice to you?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "He is nice."

Nicholas nodded again, taking a bite into a sausage hungrily. "So—" Nicholas said this while chewing, and stopped right after that word came out of his mouth so he could finish chewing and then speak. "So do you know anybody in Slytherin?"

"Draco Malfoy," Harry replied. "And you."

"I don't know anybody in Slytherin except for you," Nicholas responded, taking another bite from the same sausage.

"Was your whole family in Slytherin?" Harry asked, since he knew that Draco's family was in Slytherin, and wondered if Nicholas's was, too.

"Well … some. My dad was in Slytherin, so was my mum, and my brother was, too. My grandparents weren't, though. I think they were both in Gryffindor, or one was in Gryffindor and the other was in Slytherin …" Nicholas trailed off, looking confused. Then he shrugged.

"Would your parents mind if the Hat put you in Gryffindor?" Harry questioned. Harry already knew that Draco would also find it shameful if he was placed in any house other than Slytherin. Did any other Slytherins think the same thing? Maybe.

"I dunno," said Nicholas. "I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, so I wouldn't know. Hey—can you pass the bacon? Oh, wait, never mind … the steak! Yes, the steak."

Nicholas thanked Harry as he passed the plate of steak over, and then both sank into the thick air of silence between them again. Harry's eyes searched the staff's table until he caught Severus's eye, then gave a smile.

Harry noticed the new Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor, Evangeline Fraus. She had come to try out for the job almost immediately after Annabella Bellulus, the former DADA Professor, had said she wouldn't come back to teach this year because, over the Summer, she had accepted a proposal and was getting married sometime (Harry forgot when the date was).

Evangeline Fraus was rather short and had honey coloured eyes with light, brown hair. She had dimples when she smiled, and thin lips. Harry hadn't known her for that long, and barely talked to her, but when he did he found that Evangeline was a rather odd character.

"Hey!"

Harry only realized then that Nicholas was talking to him. Harry turned to look at the boy, saying, "What?"

"Can you pass me the chips? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now," scowled Nicholas. "Something on your mind?"

"Yeah. Sorry," Harry apologized. "I was just thinking. Here." He passed Nicholas the chips.

Both boys finished as much food as they could, and when they did the desserts replaced the food that used to be on the tables. Harry gave a low groan, finding that he couldn't eat another bite. Even if the desserts looked delicious.

"Oh, come on," Nicholas said in disbelief when Harry didn't bother to touch any of the desserts that appeared in front of him. "You're not telling me that you aren't going to eat any dessert, are you?" When Harry cast a disgusted look at the food, Nicholas gave his head an incredulous shake.

"I can't believe that you're not having any dessert. Do you _see _the things here? Amazing. Delicious!" Nicholas dipped his spoon into a bowl of ice cream and shoved it into his mouth, grinning, as if to prove his point.

Harry turned to look at a jam doughnut that just seemed to _sit _there, waiting for somebody to eat it. So, Harry slowly reached out and took the doughnut, putting it to his lips and taking a bite. Nicholas grinned triumphantly.

"See? Good, eh? I knew you couldn't just _not _eat any of that _wonderful _looking food …" Nicholas scooped some more ice cream into his spoon. "You'd have to be mental not to, I say. Mmm, that chocolate éclair looks good."

Nicholas looked at the éclair longingly, then back at his bowl of ice cream, and then up to Harry. "I don't think I can eat another bite."

Harry laughed. "After you got over saying how amazing and delicious the food was, and I'd be mental not to eat it?"

"I did eat it!" Nicholas insisted. "A bit anyway. It's just … I think I ate too much roast beef. That, or too much bacon. Maybe I ate too much of _everything._" He pushed his unfinished bowl of ice cream aside. "I'm done."

Harry finished eating the rest of his doughnut before he and Nicholas started chatting again, then Dumbledore stood. The Hall quickly quieted, and Dumbledore started with his speech.

Harry listened intently as Dumbledore explained that the forest near Hogwarts was forbidden, and that nobody was to go near them. Then Dumbledore said that Quidditch would start up again the second week of term, and that anybody that was interested should see Madame Hooch. Then, before the Professor finished his speech, he said that the third-floor corridor, located on the right-hand side, was prohibited.

Harry glanced at Nicholas as the Hall erupted with singing. Over the chanting, Harry asked, "Do you know why the third-floor corridor is out-of-bounds?" Harry didn't know why Nicholas would know, but maybe, the boy would.

Unfortunately, he didn't.

"Nope." Then Nicholas started to join in with everybody else, starting with, "_With some interesting stuff, for now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff, so teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot._"

Harry joined in from there, but it didn't sing that much since there wasn't that much left to sing. A smile flickered on his face as everybody ended the song at different times, then he heard only two rather similar voices sing a slow funeral march.

Harry stood up as Dumbledore announced that it was time to go to bed; Nicholas doing the same. As the Slytherins followed the Slytherin Prefect out of the Great Hall, Draco joined the two.

"I'm glad you're in Slytherin," Draco said to Harry. "I had a feeling you were going to be sorted into Slytherin, anyway."

Harry grinned. "Me too. Oh, Draco? This is Nicholas Nixon. Nicholas? This is Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Both nodded at each other, while Nicholas smiled lightly and said, "Nice to meet you."

They continued through the corridors with the rest of the Slytherin first years until they reached the portrait of a serpent.

"Password?" the snake hissed.

"Cauda Draconis."

The portrait swung open to reveal a large room, the Slytherin common room. To the side there was a large fire, and in front of that fire were two sofas facing each other. All things there were either green, silver or black.

Then the Prefect directed the boys to their dormitory, and the girls to theirs. Nicholas, Draco and Harry went to their dormitories and found their beds, four-posters with green curtains. Their stuff had already been brought up, and exhausted, Harry slumped onto his bed.

"I feel sick," Nicholas moaned as he, too, fell onto his four-poster bed and buried his head into his pillow.

Harry snorted. "I wonder why."

"Too much dessert?" Draco guessed, his voice heavy with weariness.

"Too much of everything," Harry replied as he slipped into his pyjamas. He went under the covers of his bed, almost immediately falling into a deep slumber before a muttered an almost mumbled, "G'night," to Draco and Nicholas.

-

A/N: As said before, I hope this chapter makes up for lousy last chapter of Bond. I actually posted this earlier than expected, but that's better than later, isn't it? You should read Bond before this if you haven't already, by the way. Review!


	2. Quidditch

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Here is the second chapter …

**-**

**Chapter Two**

Harry walked down to the Great Hall the next morning with Draco and Nicholas, somehow feeling hardly tired at all. He was so sure that, the next morning after the feast, that he would barely be able to get up. How wrong he was.

"We've got double Potions first," Harry said to the two. "Which is good. I like Potions."

"Is it true that Professor Snape favours the Slytherins?" Nicholas questioned as they entered the Great Hall and took their seat at the Slytherin table. A few whispers followed Harry along the way, but he ignored them.

"Well … yes," Harry replied. "He is Head of Slytherin House. Plus he doesn't like Gryffindor that much, and gives them a really hard time sometimes …"

Nicholas relished the buttered toast and jam that he chewed and turned to look at Harry. "He doesn't like any of the houses except for Slytherin, does he?" he asked with a mouth full of toast. With Harry's quizzical look, Nicholas grinned sheepishly and swallowed. "Sorry. I said he doesn't like any of the houses except for Slytherin, does he?"

Harry searched for the right answer, which was a blatant, "No." Then, he added, "He dislikes Gryffindor the most, though."

"I'm glad I'm in Slytherin, then," Nicholas muttered.

"Me too," Draco spoke up. "I knew I was going to be, though. Nicholas, what house did you think you were going to be put in? Slytherin, too?"

Nicholas gave his shoulders a small shrug. "I dunno. A bit of my family was put in Slytherin, I think a bit were in Gryffindor too. Who knows what other houses. It could've been any, but the Hat chose Slytherin, which I'm actually glad it did … I met you two …"

He finished his toast and, since he was sitting in between Draco and Harry, was able to glance at both boys. "I saw you on the Hogwarts Express," he said to Draco. "What about you, Harry? I don't think I saw you there."

"I came here a while early," Harry replied, he too grabbing a buttered piece of toast. "Severus—er, Professor Snape—had to get some things ready, so that's why."

"That explains it," Nicholas replied with a nod. "I didn't know Professors went to school early, but then, obviously they would have to, to get classes ready and all, I suppose."

"Harry Potter."

Harry looked up, toast in hand, at the person who had just said his name. Remaining still, Harry just looked at Caoimhe Aureus. He had forgotten that she, too, would be attending Hogwarts. So how come he didn't see her at the sorting?

"W—why didn't I see you at the sorting?" Harry said, voicing his thoughts.

The girl gave Harry a look. "Obviously you weren't paying attention to the sorting. So—you're Harry Potter. My Aunt's spoken of you. I'm glad I met you, and in Slytherin, too!"

Harry looked at Caoimhe as if she was crazy. Which, he thought, she was. Did Caoimhe Aureus, Topaz Aureus's daughter, the daughter that loathed him, actually just say that she was glad that she _met _him? It wasn't the 'glad' part that confused Harry, but the 'met'.

"What are you on about?" Harry asked, setting the toast down on the plate. "I've met you before, and I didn't like it."

Caoimhe cocked her head to the left, eyebrows raised. "Well, that just goes to show why I don't remember. I've been told that I have _amnesia._"

"Amnesia," Harry repeated, realizing why she was acting so odd. "Oh … Well …"

"Bye," Caoimhe said before leaving to sit at another part of the table with a group of girls.

"Who was that?" Nicholas asked, a frown on his face. "How d'you know her?"

Harry shook his head, not wanting to answer the question, and continued to eat. He dreaded the day when Caoimhe got her memory back.

-

As always, the Potions classroom was dank and cold. Harry sat between Draco and Nicholas as the rest of the class piled into the cold room, a few of the Gryffindors sitting behind them.

First, Severus, in his cold manner, had taken attendance; then, he started a speech.

"Ensnare the senses?" Nicholas whispered to Harry. "What does that mean?"

Harry looked up at Severus again before glancing down at Nicholas and whispering back, "I dunno. Just listen—"

"Mr Nixon and Mr Potter-Snape," Severus said abruptly, causing both boys to sit up straight and attentive. "Is there something of importance that you would like to share with the class?"

"No sir," Harry and Nicholas muttered.

"Then _pay attention._" He gave them a long look while Harry and Nicholas said, "Sorry sir." Then he turned back to the rest of the class.

When Severus finished his speech with silence quickly following it; his eyes roamed the classroom, landing on Harry.

"Mr Potter-Snape. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry wasn't expecting Severus to spring a question on him like that. Before school had started, he had read through his books and remembered reading the answer to that question, but at that moment he couldn't remember a single word.

Finally, Harry shook his head. "I don't know, sir."

Very slowly and tentatively, Nicholas raised his hand into the air. Severus turned from Harry to Nicholas, asking, "Yes, Mr Nixon?"

"None?" Nicholas said it as a question instead of a statement. "Because … they're the same plant."

"Very good," Severus said. "Five points to Slytherin. Mr Weasley! Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry turned to look behind him. A boy with orange hair and freckles sat completely still, eyes wide, looking clueless. Then Harry saw, sitting next to the boy, a girl with bushy brown hair. Her hand was up in the air, waving around, trying to get Severus's attention.

"I—I don't know," the boy stuttered.

Severus completely ignored the girls quivering hand, and gazed at the class. "Can somebody tell Mr Weasley where he would find a bezoar at?"

Nobody raised their hands except for the girl beside the Weasley boy. Then, Nicholas raised his hand again.

"In the stomach of a goat?"

"Another five points to Slytherin."

Harry nudged Nicholas gently in the ribs, and when Nicholas turned to look at Harry, Harry grinned.

The rest of the class went fairly well. After Severus stopped the questioning, he informed them that they would be making a Potion to cure boils.

Harry partnered with Draco while Nicholas partnered with a boy beside him, but Harry couldn't remember his name.

"You crush the snake fangs," Draco said. "I'll stew the horned slugs."

Harry reached over to get the snake fangs, but then heard a sound behind him. He turned around to see an acid green smoke emanated from a cauldron. Harry noticed that it was the boy that was sorted into Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, and someone else's Potion. Harry let out a gasp as the whole cauldron collapsed, drenching Neville Longbottom. The rest of the Potion poured onto the floor, causing everybody to stand on chairs.

"You idiotic boy!" Severus yelled, looking furious. Neville looked like he was about to erupt into tears. "You added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire, didn't you?"

Before Severus could get another word in, Harry spoke up.

"I'll take him to the hospital wing, Professor."

He didn't know why he was offering, it just seemed to come out, but he did feel sorry for Neville, even if he was a Gryffindor.

Almost all of the class looked surprised. Severus said, "Very well. Go; take him."

Harry got off the stool and, making sure he didn't step in any of the Potion that covered the floor, escorted Neville to the hospital wing.

-

Sometime later, Harry and Neville were walking down the corridor to the Great Hall, where the students were already starting to have lunch.

"Thanks," Neville muttered, a faint pink appearing in his cheeks, "for taking me to the hospital wing. You didn't have to …"

Harry shrugged, remaining silent. Why did he? Because he felt sorry for Neville? He wondered what Draco and Nicholas would say when he returned.

"Why did you?" Neville asked, breaking the silence. "You're a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged his shoulders again. "I don't know," he replied honestly.

The rest of the way back to the Great Hall was silent, and Harry only said a 'Bye' when they reached it. When he walked over to the table, Draco was looking at him oddly.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked when Harry sat down between him and Nicholas. "He's a Gryffindor, and it's _Longbottom._"

"Maybe he just felt _helpful,_" Nicholas suggested. "I thought it was an OK thing for Harry to do."

Draco now eyed both of them oddly. "I swear you two should've been put in Gryffindor."

Nicholas remained quiet. He started to munch on a piece of plain bread, acting as if he hadn't heard—the way Draco said it—the insult.

Harry didn't bother to reply, either. He, too, acting as if he hadn't heard Draco, started to eat some of the food. He thought what he did was a good thing, now he wasn't so sure that he should've done it at all.

-

"Are you excited?" Nicholas asked, taking his eyes off the notice in the Slytherin Common Room to glance at Harry. "I've only been on a broom once or twice, and I wasn't very good… so I'll admit that I'm a bit nervous …"

Finally being able to see what the note said, he saw that it was about flying lessons. They'd start Thursday, and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be together for it.

"I haven't ever rode a broom either," Harry replied. "I've watched Quidditch games, though."

When he didn't hear Draco speak up, Harry turned around to see where the blonde boy was. He noticed Draco with two large boys that he had often seen him with before.

"That's Crabbe and Goyle," Nicholas said, following Harry's gaze to see who he was looking at. "Draco's with them sometimes. Do you find that he's a bit distant with us now, ever since the Neville thing?"

"'Course I have," Harry replied, glancing at Nicholas. "He's just mad because I helped a Gryffindor to the hospital wing. He's mad that I _offered _to do it, too. What's he got against Gryffindors, anyway?"

Nicholas looked clueless, shrugging his shoulders. "You've known him longer, I thought you knew. C'mon, let's think about something better. Quidditch, perhaps?" he grinned. "I'm actually a bit excited too. I can't wait until we're second-years—then you get to try out for the Quidditch team. Are you going to try out?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely. Ever since I've learned about Quidditch I've wanted to be part of it."

It was an impatient wait for Thursday to arrive for Harry and Nicholas, and Draco still seemed distant from them, but finally Thursday arrived.

It was three-thirty, and Harry and Nicholas (amazingly, Draco, too. He had started talking to them again that morning) stood by their brooms, itching with anticipation for Madame Hooch to start the lesson.

"Everyone by their brooms?" she asked. "Stick your right hand over your broom and say 'UP'."

Doing as he was instructed to, Harry held his right hand over his broom and said "Up!", followed by the rest of the class. He staggered back a bit as the broom flew up into his hand, and he grasped onto it. He glanced sideways at Nicholas, who was looking at his broom which still lay on the ground in aggravation. Finally, after a second forceful "UP!" his broom flew into his outstretched hand.

Harry looked around at the rest of the class. Neville Longbottom's broom hadn't even twitched; Hermione Granger's only rolled over; Draco apparently had said it wrong and Harry saw Ron Weasley's broom fly up, but instead into his outstretched hand, it whacked him in the middle of his face.

Harry listened closely as Madame Hooch gave them the rest of their instructions. They were to kick off from the ground hard to rise only a few feet from the ground, and then they to were to lower back down onto the ground.

But Neville, looking terrified, rose into the air before Madame Hooch barely blew her whistle and didn't come down. Instead he went higher, higher and higher until he slipped and slammed onto the ground with a loud noise; his broom continuing to float through the air in a different direction altogether.

"A broken wrist!" Madame Hooch explained as she examined Neville's arm, who gave a slight whimper. "Come on, off to the hospital wing." She helped Neville up and started to guide him towards the hospital wing, calling over her shoulder, "Nobody touches the brooms while I'm gone, understand? You do and you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say _Quidditch._"

Harry watched Madame Hooch and Neville leave the Quidditch pitch, then looked down at Draco to see what he was doing. When Draco straightened and started to observe what he held in his hand, Harry saw what it was.

"What's that?" Nicholas asked from beside Harry, looking at the round thing in Draco's hand with curiosity.

"It's Longbottom's," Draco said shortly, holding it up with a smirk on his face. He turned to Harry, his eyes giving a glint. "Harry, d'you want to play catch?" he picked up his broom.

"Just drop it back onto the ground," Harry advised. "Neville can find it when his arm gets better. Or better yet, why not give it to one of the Gryffindors? Maybe Hermione Granger can return it to him …"

Draco frowned. "What's wrong with you, Harry? Why not have a little fun with it? Maybe we can put it on the roof, or even in a tree. Come on," he coaxed, but Harry stayed with his first answer. Draco, however, didn't seem to like that.

Giving Harry a challenging look, he got on his broom and started to slowly go into the air. "Something wrong, Harry?" he called. "Do you want to give this back to your Gryffindor friend? Come and get it …"

Harry stay rooted to the spot, turning to look at Nicholas, who put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"Don't do it. He just wants to get you in trouble. He's been acting weird ever since the Neville-accident thing in Potions, you know that. Don't let him get to you." Nicholas shrugged. "Ignore him."

"What's wrong?" Draco said, waving the Remembrall into the air. "Scared of heights?"

Harry bent down and picked up his broom, ignoring Nicholas's warning look, and took off. When he was the exact height as Draco, he gave the boy a look.

"Just put it down, Draco. Let's wait for Madame Hooch to come back, OK?"

"You're a Slytherin," Draco said, frowning. "Why are acting like this towards the Gryffindors? _Gryffindors! _Harry …"

"Come on, Draco," Harry said desperately. "Let's stop this, all right?"

Draco looked at Harry, then looked at the Remembrall in his hand. "Fine, we'll stop this," he said after a while. "After I get this on top of the roof."

Draco's arm went back, then forward, letting the Remembrall go flying out of his hand. Harry gave Draco one last dirty look before speeding off in the direction that he had threw the Remembrall.

Harry didn't know why he was doing this, just like he didn't know why he took Neville to the hospital wing, but he knew he didn't want to be one of the Slytherins that hated the Gryffindors so much. He saw no reason to hate them, so maybe that was why he was doing this. To prove that he wasn't a bad person, mostly to the Gryffindors, who weren't exactly nice to him.

Once he caught sight of the ball, he sped forward and grasped onto it. Feeling rather triumphant, Harry lowered onto the ground, but nobody moved or spoke. There was a still, unmoving silence, and then Harry saw why.

It was Madame Hooch, her face twisted into an expression that Harry couldn't decipher.

"Mr Potter!" She barked, her voice sounding furious. "Follow me."

Harry knew that, as he passed Nicholas, his friend was trying to hide an 'I-told-you-so' look and was doing a very poor job at it. Feeling nervous at what would soon come, Harry followed Madame Hooch inside of the castle, but instead of taking her to Dumbledore like he thought she was, she was taking him down to the dungeons.

And before he knew it, Madame Hooch had interrupted Severus's class, asked for him to step out, and when they were out of earshot, Harry knew that she must've been explaining what happened.

Then Severus wordlessly passed Harry, went back into the classroom and dismissed it. After that he stepped back out and studied Harry before saying, "I assume you know what that was about?"

Harry silently nodded.

"Do you think that you are in trouble?"

The question surprised Harry, since he wasn't expecting it, and after a moments silence he answered. "P—probably."

Severus gave Harry a look, but instead said, "How would you like it if you were on the Quidditch team?"

Harry looked at Severus in amazement. Was he hearing correctly?

"What?"

"The Quidditch team. Madame Hooch said you were quite something on the broom, though you disobeyed her by going on your broom, which we will discuss after."

"She said that I was 'quite something' on the broom?" Harry repeated in disbelief. He couldn't believe that, though Severus was right by him disobeying Madame Hooch, she'd actually say something like that.

"As an afterthought," Severus replied. "But if what she said was true, then perhaps—if I talk to Dumbledore—I could put you on the Slytherin Quidditch team as Seeker, since Terence Higgs broke his arm. I'm sure Poppy will be able to mend it quickly, though however …"

Harry remained quiet, thinking it all through. Finally, with a grin on his face, he said, "Yeah … I'd like that. A lot."

Then Severus gave Harry a hard look. "Don't think that every time you disobey one of your teachers that you'll be getting something that you _like. _When classes are over and you finish your homework you will come down to my chambers and we'll discuss what happened; possibly your punishment, too."

Harry sighed, but nodded. A punishment sounded a lot better than being expelled. Then turning around, Harry went up to find Nicholas, and maybe even Draco. Hearing Slyther's annoyed cries from Severus's chamber, Harry only then realized that he hadn't retrieved the snake yet.

_Sorry, Slyther, _Harry said in his mind. _I'll come for you on Saturday. No classes then. _

_Saturday!_ Slyther repeated. _That's a long ways away, Harry! _

_Two days. When I come then I'll even bring Ember, and you can write to Amaryllis,_ Harry suggested, and blocked Slyther's voice out, because right then, he had other things on his mind. Like how Draco was going to say when he saw Harry, or if he was going to say anything at all.

-

A/N: Hey, I didn't mean to leave it this long. A lot of things have been going on, mostly with school. That's why I won't be updating Unbreakable this weekend, but maybe sometime next week. Thanks, and review!


	3. Trolls

**Chapter Three**

Nicholas almost thought that Harry was kidding when he had said that he was going to be on the Quidditch team. But, with Harry insisting that he wasn't at all in any way kidding, Nicholas soon started to believe him.

Slowly Nicholas picked up a knife and started to butter his toast, silently looking at Draco and Harry with a frown. Both boys had been ignoring each other since what had happened before, and it was definitely not fun for him.

Both had an angry look on their face, but at least Draco was eating. Grumpily or not. Harry, however, had pushed his porridge away and said that he 'wasn't hungry'. Nicholas didn't bother to argue.

He was surprised when Harry said brightly, and without any glance at Draco, "Nicholas, could you ask _Malfoy _to pass the bacon?"

Nicholas gave Harry a look, but Harry kept his sudden bright, perky expression in place. So, he turned to Draco, who still looked cold and hard, and asked, "Could you pass Harry the bacon?"

"Well, you can tell _Potter _that he can get the bacon on his own."

Nicholas briefly shut his eyes. "Will you two _please _stop this? It's so foolish. You're both friends—"

"Friends?" Draco repeated with a snort. "Who could be friends with a _Gryffindor_-loving Slytherin?"

Harry clenched his teeth together, but refrained himself from saying anything that could cause another argument, no matter _if _it meant that they would at least be talking to each other. Maybe things would work itself out … eventually.

-

Unfortunately for Harry (and Nicholas), nothing worked itself out the next few days. Harry and Draco were still on bad terms, and it seemed that no matter how many times Nicholas tried to get things better between the two, it never did.

"Are you sure we're allowed down here?" Nicholas whispered as Harry led them to Severus's chambers to get Slyther.

Harry laughed. "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

Nicholas shrugged, continuing to follow Harry. "So what did we need down here? You never answered me the first time."

"Oh," said Harry, seeing the portrait to Severus's chambers. "I promised Slyther—my snake—that I'd pick him up from Severus's chambers on Saturday. And, well, it's Saturday."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know you had a snake. Are snakes even allowed at Hogwarts? I didn't see them on the list. I just saw that you could either bring an owl, toad, cat—"

"Dumbledore said I could," Harry interrupted. "As long as I keep him in Severus's chambers, out of sight."

"I feel weird," Nicholas said quietly as he followed Harry through the portrait. "Like I shouldn't be here."

"Well, I don't think you are," Harry said with a laugh. "But I am, and you're with me, so I say that it's OK."

Nicholas grinned.

"Severus?" Harry called as he came into the Potions masters' chambers. Everything remained quiet, which told Harry that Severus must be in his classroom, or somewhere else.

_Harry! _Slyther's voice sounded relieved. _Finally! It seemed like _months. _Has it really only been two days? _

"Yeah," Harry replied. "My friend Nicholas is here with me. Where are you?"

_Your room, _answered Slyther. Harry led Nicholas to the room as Slyther continued talking._ I've been so bored! I couldn't leave these chambers, which meant I couldn't write to Amaryllis … oh, boy … I hope she doesn't think I forgot about her … _

"That's your snake?" Nicholas asked, looking impressed as he studied the snake laying on the bed. "What's its name?"

"Slyther," Harry replied, picking Slyther up. "He's actually a human, but can turn into a snake. I forget what it's called."

_An animagus, _Slyther said.

Harry nodded. "Right. Animagus."

Nicholas looked at Harry curiously. "You can … talk to your snake?"

"Yeah."

It was quiet until Nicholas spoke again. "If it's really a human, than why is it still in the form of a snake and why are you keeping it for a pet? Shouldn't it be with its family, like a … well … _person?_"

Harry sat down on his bed, glancing at Slyther. Nicholas sat down beside him. "I guess I should start at the beginning."

"Do you mind if I tell him?"Harry asked Slyther quickly as an afterthought

_Sure, I guess, _Slyther agreed._ If you trust him or whatever._

"Last year I found Slyther," Harry continued after he had Slyther's approval. "Outside of my aunt and uncles house. I didn't know he was actually a human, but I took him in. Then I learned that he was an animagus, and I'm still keeping him with me because we're looking for his family. We haven't had any luck with that, though."

"I know a lot of Witches and Wizards," Nicholas said with a shrug. "What's his parents' names?"

"Helen Jacobs," Harry replied. "He just remembers his mothers name."

After searching the name through his mind, Nicholas shrugged, looking sorry. "I don't know that name. Hey, does Professor Snape know his mum? How old is your snake?"

"Sixteen," Harry responded. "When he was sixteen he turned into a snake and left Hogwarts. He stayed a snake and never aged."

Nicholas looked at Slyther, thinking everything through. "Does Draco know about it?"

Harry's expression never changed at Draco's name, and he shrugged carelessly. "Nope. C'mon, we should go do some of our homework."

_Oh, no, no, no, no, no!_ Slyther yelled as Harry set him down and started towards the door. _No way! You take me with you! _

Harry turned around. "I'm not allowed to have you out of the chambers. Don't worry, we'll come back as often as we can. I won't forget about you."

_No! _Slyther said angrily._ You're taking me with you. Or … or …_

Harry laughed out loud, surprising Nicholas. He gave Harry a weird look, but Harry just shook his head.

"Or what?"

Nicholas jumped back as the snake on the bed turned into a sixteen year old boy with curly brown hair and brown eyes.

"Nathaniel!" Harry exclaimed. "What're you doing?"

"I'm coming with you," Nathaniel pointed out angrily, standing on wobbly legs. "I'm not going to stay here forever. At this very moment I could be writing Amaryllis, but instead, what am I doing? Arguing with you about staying here or not. Oh and look it Harry, my clothes didn't disappear this time!"

Harry glanced at Nicholas before saying, "All right, but you'll have to turn back into a snake and I'll have to keep you in my pocket."

Nathaniel's grin expanded. "I can be in your pocket … you've kept me in your pocket loads of times before no problem …" With another grin, he transformed back into a snake.

Harry went over and gathered Slyther up, gently setting him in his pocket before he and Nicholas started back up to the Slytherin common room.

-

"Why are we going?" Nicholas asked after Harry just announced he was going to the Gryffindor common room to hopefully find a Gryffindor.

"'Cause …" Harry trailed off, quickly trying again afterwards. "Because I forgot to give Neville his Remembrall back."

"You've had it all this time? Why not when you took him to the hospital wing?"

"I forgot," Harry responded. "So I thought we'd go no—"

Harry grabbed onto the railing as the staircase he and Nicholas were on started to move in a different direction.

"Oh, no," Harry muttered as the staircase stopped on a different floor. It didn't seem like it'd move any time soon. He looked at Nicholas. "What now?"

Nicholas glanced at the door behind them. "We can go through that. Maybe there's somewhere that leads back to … oh, I dunno … hopefully the Slytherin common room?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. Hopefully. Or we can wait for the staircase to go back."

"How do we know it'll go back there?" Nicholas replied with raised eyebrows. "It could move in another direction."

"Yeah, I'm hoping that it'll go back to where it was before," Harry said. He, too, glanced at the door. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check it out. Maybe it will lead _somewhere …_"

Nicholas grinned. "That's it!" He took lead. "Let's go."

-

"It doesn't look like its going anywhere," Nicholas said apologetically as he lead Harry through a dark passageway. "Sorry."

"For what? I agreed to look around," Harry replied. "Just keep going."

"All right," Nicholas agreed. He held out his hand and let it skim the wall while keeping his other hand out in front of him, just so he wouldn't bang into anything. It was hard to see through the darkness. He stopped abruptly as his hand went past something metal and cold.

"Harry," Nicholas whispered, taking a step back and feeling for the cold thing again. "It's a handle to a door. Should we go through?"

Harry hesitated. "I'm … not sure. Is it locked? If it is, maybe we shouldn't go through. But if it isn't, maybe we could just peak?"

Nicholas tried the handle and found that it was locked. He gave Harry a disappointed look and shook his head. Then, he whipped around as he heard another set of footsteps in the distance—although they were becoming quite distinct.

"Somebody's coming," he hissed. "What if they catch us and we're not suppose to be here? We could be … suspended! I don't want to be suspended, I just got to Hogwarts, and I like it!"

"Calm down," Harry said, glancing to his side. "We'll figure something out … Maybe it's Severus! If it is we could tell him the truth: The staircase moved and we wound up here."

"Whatever," Nicholas muttered, searching his robes for his wand. "I don't want to face Professor Snape. We could lose points or a detention—he's not exactly fair. Well, maybe to the Slytherins, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to find out." Wrapping his figures around his wand, he pulled it out, pointed it at the door and said, "Alohamora."

The door opened easily, and Nicholas and Harry quickly went through. Both pressed their ears against the door and strained to listen as the footsteps grew louder, then, went away again. Harry heard Nicholas breathe a huge sigh of relief, then felt hot breath on his neck.

"You're breathing on my neck, Nicholas," Harry pointed out with a laugh as he turned around. "I thought you were beside me. I didn't think you were—"

Harry stopped short, and when he did, Nicholas turned around to to see why. In a terrified whisper he said, "That's not me."

Harry gulped, taking a step backward and found he couldn't. The door was in his way. "I—I see."

Nicholas gulped too, his eyes glued on the large dog in front of them. He didn't dare speak, but found that he had to, even if it did come out as a whisper. At least it was something.

"I can't move."

"This—we must be in the forbidden corridor on the third floor," Nicholas continued as, still facing he dog, he used his hands behind him to fumble with the handle. "I'm going to open the door. Then we run."

Harry didn't bother to object. Just as Nicholas opened the door, Harry tore through it, wanting to put as much distance between him and the dog—or rather, _dogs_—as possible. Then he realized that Nicholas wasn't behind him.

Turning around, Harry saw Nicholas's shoulder pushed up against the door and trying to close it to keep the dogs in. Harry ran back to help, and after a difficult time, they finally managed to shut the door.

"Three heads. One body," Nicholas muttered as they walked quickly back to the staircase. "I—I've never seen such a thing. And—I've never been that scared before. I couldn't even scream, but I managed to talk."

"No wonder its forbidden," Harry said. The staircase just started to move again as Harry and Nicholas quickly went on, and thankfully, it went back to where it had moved from before.

"Let's never talk about this," Nicholas said once they stepped off the staircase. "If one of the Professors hears us, we could be suspended. Or expelled. I really, really don't want that."

Harry shook his head. "Neither do I."

Nicholas nodded his head, both forgetting about the remembrall.

_Neither do you what? _Slyther said for the first time.

"You mean—what were you doing in my pocket?" Harry demanded.

_Sleeping,_ Slyther admitted sheepishly. _Sorry, but I fell asleep. What happened? You sound sort of shaky._

Harry inwardly sighed "Never mind."

-

Practicing Quidditch, Harry found, and learning more than he already knew about it was fun, except for Marcus Flint, who was the one teaching him about it. He hoped that that would be his last lesson with Flint; he couldn't bear if he had another one.

The practices were better with the rest of the Quidditch team, however. Even if Flint was the Captain, Harry somehow managed to make it through. Being up in the air, riding a broomstick, was amazing—it took his mind off Flint, which is partially how he made it through the practices.

"Where're you going?" Nicholas asked as he caught up with Harry on Halloween morning. Without waiting for an answer, he enthusiastically continued on. "Can you believe we've been at Hogwarts for _two _months? It seems so much more shorter!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I'm not excited about summer holidays coming, even though I'll get some more time to spend with Severus. Are you?"

Nicholas shrugged, grinning. "Am I what? Excited about spending the holidays with _Severus?_" He smiled. "No. Am I excited about the summer holidays? Um … no." Then he stopped in the middle of the corridor, looking uncomfortable. "So, uh … have you talked to Draco lately?"

Harry stared at Nicholas. "Nicholas—do you have to ask?"

He shrugged again. "Sorry. You guys haven't been talking in _months … _it's horrible."

"Mr Potter!" Evangeline Fraus rounded a corner, approaching Harry and Nicholas. Her round face was cheery, and her smile lit her face. "And Mr Nixon. Nice to see you again." With a look Harry couldn't describe, she added, "Causing mischief, I presume?"

Nicholas and Harry exchanged looks. "Yes, Professor," Harry said with a small smile.

She flashed a smile as she answered with a, "Good." Then adding, "I'll see you in class Mr Potter."

Harry nodded. "Yes."

She looked at Nicholas, cocking her head to the left. "You too, Mr Nixon?" Nicholas nodded his head yes. "Excellent. Well, shall we go? You don't want to linger around the halls and risk being late for class. Hurry, now."

-  
Evangeline Fraus let out a sigh. She could feel Voldemort's soul lingering along with her own as she walked through the Hogwarts corridor. He hadn't taken control of her body as she encountered Harry Potter-Snape and Nicholas Nixon, which she remained glad for. It was so abrupt, so... startling when she ended up not being able to control her movements as she used to.

It was becoming uncomfortable sharing her body with another.

But she had to do it. For her Lord.

-

At supper, the Great Hall was decorated in a Halloween theme. The candles in the pumpkins seemed to be what gave the hall the Halloween feel, but then maybe it was the live bats that flew around the ceiling. Or perhaps, both.

Draco was actually not ignoring Harry as he was a while ago, for then he was making Nicholas the messenger whenever he needed something of Harry. Like passing the potatoes, or eggs. Now, he was asking _Harry _for whatever he needed from him.

"Potter," Draco said abruptly, his eyes briefly flashing towards Harry before they swerved to the potatoes. "Pass the potatoes, will you?"

It was brief and rude, and he referred to Harry by his surname, although Harry didn't bother to correct Draco when he didn't add the "Snape" on the end. At least Draco was talking to him.

He looked up at the staff table and found it rather curious that Evangeline Fraus wasn't at her seat having the Halloween feast, but smiled at Severus when he caught the Professors eye. Severus gave no smile back, and Harry wasn't really expecting his guardian to, but instead gave a small nod of the head. Which, to Harry, was almost like a smile from Severus.

His head shot around towards the doors when they burst open, both slamming loudly against the wall. Evangeline Fraus entered—or ran—, her hair falling out of her neat clip and into her eyes. A panicked look seemed to be glued to her face—she looked terrified as she managed a, "The … the dungeons …" out. Her face was flushed, and Harry wasn't surprised. If whatever terrified her was down in the dungeons, and she ran all the way … Well, she wasn't exactly in a fit shape. It must've been quite a run for her.

Every pair of eyes in the Great Hall landed on Evangeline Fraus as she bent forward, her hands on her knees, panting. When she looked up, she tried speaking again.

"Troll!" She yelled loudly, causing several people to jump. "Troll! Troll! Troll! In …" She slowly breathed in and out, calming herself, before trying to finish her sentence. "In the dungeons … Troll …"

Looking exhausted, yet still frightened, she slumped to floor in an upright position, her head falling forward. She was out.

At first, nobody moved. They seemed unable, as if not yet registering what Evangeline had just said. Then it clicked, and it seemed that the only thing for them to do was run. Out of the Great Hall and somewhere safe, where the troll wouldn't be able to get them.

Harry was almost satisfied at seeing the panicky expression on Draco's face, but then he forgot about it, and just seemed to be concerned about getting somewhere safe, like everybody else was.

Almost at once, after Dumbledore had yelled loudly for everybody to be quiet, the whole Hall froze. Slowly, and at the same time quickly, the students started to follow their prefect to their common rooms, but Harry had to find Severus first.

"Just go," Harry said after Nicholas grabbed his arm. "I'll meet up with you." He ran up to Severus, who was getting up.

"Severus!" said Harry. "What are you doing?"

"_I _am going to try and help get the troll out of the school. It should be I asking _you _that question. Wasn't it clear for you to follow your prefect to your common room?" Severus gave Harry a hard stare.

Harry gave his shoulders a shrug. "I just had to talk to you first before you did anything. The troll could hurt you."

"I'm fully aware of that," Severus said, his stare softening a bit. "But now that you have, you can go to your common room. I assure you that I'll be fine."

Harry nodded his head, cast another look at the Potions master, than ran to catch up with the rest of the Slytherin students.

-

"Can you believe that a _troll's _in the castle?" Nicholas said as he sat down on the couch in the Slytherin common room. "I wonder how, and I wonder how it was Professor Fraus who found it."

"Yeah," Harry replied, sitting down beside him. "I hope she's OK. She looked really scared."

"Wouldn't you be, too? I wonder why she was in the dungeons, anyway."

Harry shook his head. "I dunno, but I'm going to bed. I hope we don't have a substitute in DADA tomorrow, Professor Fraus is an all right teacher if she didn't have that split personality."

"I wouldn't mind," Nicholas responded as he followed Harry to the dorm. "That split personality of hers sort of creeps me. One minute she's all cheery, and then the next she could be... just so dark. It'd be nice for her to choose one personality and stick with it,"

Harry couldn't help but agree.

-

A/N: Sorry for the long update, it wasn't intended. Before people start asking questions about this chapter, like the Hermione-in-the-bathroom-when-the-troll-attacks thing, well … it didn't happen. She wasn't in the bathroom when the troll attacked. Thanks.


	4. Games

**Chapter Four**

"I don't believe you," Nicholas muttered as he and Harry made his way to the Great Hall. "You're really, seriously going to go visit Professor Fraus in the hospital wing? _Why?_"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I feel like it. I have to return this—" he took the Remembrall out of his pocket and held it up for Nicholas to see. "—to Neville first. Then I'll go see the Professor. D'you want to come?"

Nicholas shook his head. "No _thank-you. _You'll come for lunch after you visit her, though, won't you?"

"Of course."

Harry and Nicholas went into the Great Hall, Nicholas walking over to the Slytherin table while Harry made his way to the Gryffindor. When he spotted Neville, avoiding the stares he was getting, Harry approached Neville and handed him his Remembrall.

"This is yours, Neville," he said. Neville seemed startled, and after a moments pause, he took the it from Harry's hands.

With a timid, uncertain smile, Neville said, "Thanks … _Harry_."

It was an awkward moment for Harry—possibly Neville, too—and with another grin, he turned around and walked back out of the Great Hall.

As Harry walked towards the hospital wing, Harry noticed a black figure in the distance. Right off he knew who it was. "Severus!" he called, walking quicker than before. As he neared the Potions master, he noticed that he was limping.

"Severus! What—what happened? Was it the troll?"

Severus looked at Harry suspiciously. "Why aren't you in the Great Hall having lunch?"

"Why aren't you answering my question?" Harry gave Severus a look. "What happened to your leg?"

Severus started to walk past Harry. "It is none of your business of what happened to my leg, Harry. Come to the Great Hall and have your lunch."

"It _is _my business!" Harry yelled angrily. "You're my dad! It _is._"

Severus stopped, slowly turning around to face Harry. "We'll talk about it later."

Harry sighed, reluctantly nodding. He turned around and started towards the hospital wing, but Severus's voice stopped him.

"Where are you going, Harry? The Great Hall is this way."

Harry turned around, saying, "I know. I'm going to see Professor Fraus in the hospital wing."

Harry saw Severus shake his head. "I don't think you should."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust her," Severus replied easily. "Not anymore, so I don't want you going around her."

"But …" Harry searched for something to say. Why didn't he trust Evangeline? "Why not? She's never done anything to hurt me. Us. Or anyone."

Severus walked forward, toward Harry. "I realize that you have classes with her. Classes are fine, I'm not telling you to not participate in her classes. When you see her in the halls, I'm not telling you to be rude and ignore her. Just be _cautious _around her, for your own sake."

"My own sake?" Harry repeated. "You think she's evil…"

"You never know, Harry," Severus said. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm not saying that she is. I'm saying to stay cautious around her, and to not go to the hospital wing to see her alone."

"Then come with me," Harry said.

"Why do you want to see Fraus so badly?" Severus asked, letting his hand drop off Harry's shoulder. The boy shrugged, unable to answer.

"She was really scared when the troll was in the dungeons. I just wanted to see how she was feeling."

Severus sighed, closing his eyes. "Why do you have to be so nice?" With a shake of his head, he and Harry started down again to the hospital wing.

Harry glanced down at Severus's leg as they neared the wing. "What happened to your leg?"

Severus quickly looked at Harry before staring forward. "Nothing that you need to worry about. Now, we're here. Can we make this visit short?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed as he walked over to Evangeline's bed. The woman was already up and drinking from a cup. She finished the last bit down before setting the cup on the nightstand next to her and smiled at her visitors. And as Harry examined Evangeline a bit more, he saw that deep down in her eyes, when she looked at Severus he saw … mixed emotions, that he couldn't tell one from the other.

"Oh, well isn't this unexpected? Can I help you … Mr Potter-Snape?" Evangeline smiled warmly. Without waiting for an answer, she continued on. "What a question to ask! You're here so you _must _need my help on something. So, what can I do for you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, I—er, _we_—just wanted to make sure that you're feeling better after … well …"

"Oh, why _thank-you. _Of course I'm feeling better, thank-you again for asking Mr Potter-Snape … and Severus," Evangeline added, smiling warmly at Severus. As Harry tried to find any note of sarcasm or, even hate, in the Professors smile, he found none. But as he looked in her eyes, he saw it clear as day. Betrayal?

"We should get going," Severus spoke up. "It's lunch, and we must leave you be."

"I hope to see you in class, Harry," Evangeline said without calling him 'Mr Potter-Snape'. "And your friend, too."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Well … Bye."

"Bye," Evangeline said after Harry and Severus had already started towards the door.

-

"Do you need to be so cheerful? Nice?" Evangeline hissed to herself as soon as she was alone.

"Of course," Evangeline herself answered. "My Lord, this is merely a facade and you know it. As soon as we get the Stone, you can find the body you're looking for and _use _the Stone! In order to fulfill this, we need to put on an act. We'll be successful in no time, my Lord."

-

"Are you nervous?" Nicholas asked Harry on the day of his Quidditch match. Harry nodded his head and continued to munch on a piece of toast. "Are you excited?" Harry nodded his head again.

"You'll be great," Nicholas continued. "I'll be cheering for you. Slyther'll be cheering for you, too—did you want me to take him during the match for you? Didn't he say that he wanted to see you play?"

Harry nodded. "That'll be great." Then he pushed his plate of bacon and eggs away.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't eat. I feel sick. What … what if I eat too much, then when I'm up on the broom I throw up?" Harry asked, his cheeks tinged with a green color.

"You just feel like that because you feel nervous. You won't throw up—but if you do, try not to get me, all right?" asked Nicholas with a grin.

"Potter," Draco said, rather uneasily, as he passed.

Harry looked up, surprised. "Yeah?"

It took a while for Draco to say, "Good luck in the game today."

Harry nodded his head, watching Draco's back as he walked away. Even Nicholas looked surprised that Draco talked to Harry.

"He doesn't hate you as much as before," Nicholas pointed out with a smile on his face. "Things will be better before you know it."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know."

"What's not to know? He just wished you luck in Quidditch today—that's a start, Harry."

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry replied. He then cleared his throat. "I'm not so hungry anymore."

"Anymore?" Nicholas laughed. "You weren't very hungry in the first place, because you're afraid that when you're up in the air you'll throw up."

Harry shrugged. "It could happen."

"Of course, Harry—In your nightmares. Come on," Nicholas pushed a bowl of porridge in front of Harry. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

—

"Do you have your broom?"

"You should be up in the stands already."

"Come on—do you have your broom?"

"Are you even allowed coming down here with me? I think I'm going a different way to get to the pitch. You should be up in the stands waiting for the game to start now. And, don't you see this in my hand? It's my _broom._"

"Do you feel sick?"

"Stop acting so worried." Harry stopped and faced Nicholas. "Go up in the stands. I'll see you after the game."

Nicholas gave a quick smile. "Good luck."

"Thanks. Oh, do you have Slyther?"

"Yep," Nicholas replied, patting his pocket. "I'll take him out of my pocket when the game starts, but I hope people won't notice him. Hey, where'd you get your broom? It's really nice."

Harry grinned. "Severus."

Then, he started walking again, this time in a different direction than Nicholas was going.

The familiar feeling in his stomach returned as Harry got out of the locker rooms and waited with the rest of his team to go on the field. It was the nervousness in the pit of his stomach, worse than when he had it on the first day of classes. The nervous feeling made him feel sick, which wasn't good. What if he _did _throw up on the pitch?

Harry pushed the thought out of his mind. Maybe, if he didn't think about throwing up, he wouldn't.

All in all, the game went pretty well. He didn't vomit or fall off his broom. During the game he was able to spot Nicholas's face in the crowd over with the Slytherins. Then, where the teachers were, he noticed Evangeline Fraus. The smile that was on her face made Harry's stomach feel sick, maybe out of awkwardness. But when he noticed Severus in front of her, looking rather proud, the feeling quelled.

And in the end, Slytherin had won.

"You were excellent!" Nicholas yelled as he came towards Harry after the game. "Awesome, in fact. _Brilliant. _Slytherins lucky to have you on their team, you know."

Harry grinned, embarrassed. "Thanks, Nicholas. How's Slyther?"

Nicholas fumbled around in his pocket before he lifted Slyther out.

_The boy's right. You were something, _the snake said, nodding his head. When he did, Nicholas laughed.

"What'd he say to you? Do you _see _him _nodding his head?_ I've never seen a snake do that before."

"Well, you know, he's not just any snake," Harry said with a smile. "He's Nathaniel Jacobs."

"Hey." Nicholas's smile turned into a frown, and he handed the snake back over to Harry. His face turned serious. "You know about the, erm, _thing in three's_? On the uh …"

Harry nodded his head. "Oh, that. Yeah, what about it?"

"At first I just thought that it was a shadow, but … I think those erm, things, were standing on something. I'm not sure what."

"You mean, like guarding?" Harry said with a frown. "I don't know. What could those things be guarding?"

Both quieted down as a few people passed them, and when they were out of earshot, Harry and Nicholas continued on.

"I'm not sure, but I thought it was just a shadow. Now that I thought about it, though … It looked like an outline of something, but the rest was cut off."

"I can't believe you'd be looking down at the ground by their feet," Harry said with a shake of his head. "What about it's … um … _Well._"

"I know," Nicholas said, looking troubled. "My eyes just went down there though. But a dog with three heads in a school, it's just weird. Why would it be in the school unless it's there for a reason? A purpose? I don't think a thing like that could land there by accident, do—"

Nathaniel's mouth snapped shut. He straightened noticeably, his eyes fixed on something behind Harry. Harry didn't even have to turn around. He already knew who was behind him. Severus. And Nicholas had just said everything out loud. Oh, boy …

"Wha'?"

Surprised at the voice, Harry whirled around. It wasn't Severus, it was Hagrid.

"H—Hagrid," Harry said, a smile flickering on and off his face. "Hi."

"Wha's this abou' a three headed dog?"

Harry swallowed. He couldn't move, not even turn his head to exchange a glance with Nicholas.

"Oh, it's just this thing we … um …" Then Harry sighed, and decided to tell Hagrid everything. After all, they didn't go there on purpose. It was an accident.

"You listen here," Hagrid said after both boys had finished explaining. "Don' try meddlin' in this. It doesn' concern yeh. It's between Dumbledore and Nicolas—" Coughing very, very loudly, Hagrid tried to cover up the last thing he said. "Jus' don' go meddlin' in it. Leave it alone. Understand?"

Harry slowly nodded. "Yes, I—we—understand."

Hagrid started to walk up towards the castle, leaving Nicholas and Harry in the exact same spot.

"Why is whatever that, y'know, guarding or whatever between Dumbledore and you?" Harry gave Nicholas a look, but the boy shook his head, looking as confused as Harry felt—and probably looked.

"I don't know anything about this. Maybe it's a different Nicholas," he suggested. "But it's definitely not me."

It was then like a blanket of silence had fallen on top of them, because nobody spoke. It remained completely quiet, except for the people that passed them as they came off the stands. Then, spotting Severus, Harry said a quick goodbye and 'see you later' to Nicholas, before passing the boy and making his way towards his guardian.

-

A/N: Another chapter completed. Thanks for being patient and review!


	5. Mirror of Erised

**Chapter Five**

Several feet of snow blanketed the ground and the castle in mid-December. To Harry, it was pretty hard to be believe that the Christmas holidays were quickly nearing, but it was, and it seemed like everybody couldn't wait for the holiday to arrive.

So far, Harry knew that only he and a few other Slytherins that he didn't know the names of were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Nicholas was going home for Christmas to see his family, but had offered to stay with Harry at the school. Harry refused, saying that Nicholas should go home. After all, he had Severus and Slyther. Those two were really all he needed for Christmas.

When everybody that was going home for Christmas left, Harry made his way down to Severus's chambers to get Slyther. He knew that Severus wouldn't be in there, since Harry had last seen the Potions master in his classroom.

_Did you make him angry? _Slyther questioned as Harry gathered the snake up from the bed in Harry's room. _He's been so cranky lately - but really, when is he not? I just wondered if you two had a disagreement on something … _

Harry shook his head, going through the portrait hole and into the corridor. "I'm guessing you're talking about Severus? Nope. I think Severus's 'cranky' because of Professor Fraus."

_Professor Fraus? _Slyther repeated. _Is that one of your teachers? Oh wait - that's your Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor, isn't it? You told me about her once. Why is he cranky because of her? _

Harry was just about to reply when Slyther cut in again, sounding like he had just figured something out.

_Oh, I see! You don't have to explain it to me now, Harry, I see crystal clear. Our Potions master is jealous, isn't he? Jealous that this Angelica Fraus is going to turn you against him or something. Then what will our poor Potions master do when you leave him for your new mother? Hmm? Answer me that, why don't you! _

Harry stopped walking to look down at the snake he held in his hand. He raised his eyebrows at Slyther, trying to force his smile down. Sometimes Harry was amazed at his friends imagination. He could come up with the craziest things.

"Did you say Angelica Fraus? Her name's Evangeline," Harry corrected as he continued to walk again. "But that's not why he's angry. Besides I don't really think he's jealous... more like... he doesn't trust her?"

_Sometimes I'm amazed by the way you're so slow. He most likely _is _jealous, but just uses "trust" as an excuse to cover up. _

Harry dropped the subject once he entered the Great Hall. To Slyther, he said, "Doesn't the Great Hall look nice?"

It did, too. Without counting, Harry estimated that there were at least seven beautifully decorated Christmas trees in the hall; it also had a faint, orangish glow to the Great Hall as well, from the candles that were lit. They hung in between the Christmas trees.

There were other people staying for the holidays from different houses, as well. Harry noticed one that looked familiar - Ron Weasley. He was in Gryffindor, and there were other people around the boy, too. There was also another boy that Harry knew the name of: Seamus Finnigan.

_It looks in the Christmas mood, _Slyther said. Almost immediately after the words left his mouth did his voice turn angry. _But, I wouldn't know what this _Great Hall _looks like half the time. I mean, with the fact that you keep me locked up in Snape's _chambers _every single day! But, perhaps it just goes to show … _

Slyther trailed off, living his voice light and carefree, like it didn't matter. Of course, Harry knew that it did.

Harry sat down at the Slytherin table, sitting Slyther down beside him.

"Just goes to show what?" Harry asked quietly, his mouth barely moving as he waited for his lunch to come. The reason he did this was so that people didn't think that he was talking to himself, since they probably—and hopefully—couldn't see his snake.

_That you forget about me! _Slyther said matter-of-factly. _You spend so much time with this Nicholas and school and daddy dearest that you have, absolutely, no time to take me out of the bloody chambers once and a while. I am a full grown man—I deserve better! _

Harry laughed quietly. "You're sixteen, Sly—_Nathaniel,_ and at times you still act like a child. I wouldn't call you a full grown man. Sorry."

_Oh, I bet you are, _Slyther said sarcastically. _But you really _will _be sorry. One of these days. I swear—you'll be sorry! You and … you and your _daddy _too. Oh, and by the way? I'm probably _seventeen _by now! I—I'm not exactly sure, but I'm guessing! That's a whole year older! _

Harry tried to smother his smile, while Slyther's tail rose a bit in the air.

_I am raising my hand in an oath, by the way. That way I promise that you'll be sorry, and I won't be just saying it and doing nothing to accomplish it. This way, I really will do something about it. I swear._

"It looks like you're raising your tail," Harry said. "Are you really raising your hand?"

_I don't know, _Slyther said_. I'm just raising anything that'll … raise. I mean, if I raise my hand, you won't notice it, would you? Nope. I didn't think so._

"You didn't give me any time to answer your question," Harry pointed out. "You answered it yourself."

_Well, if you must know, it was one of those questions that didn't answering. It was the kind that the person who asked the question could answer it for himself, and the person he was asking didn't have to answer. See? _

"So," Harry said, starting a new subject. "Lunch should be ready soon. Do you want the usual?"

_I guess so, _Slyther said with a sigh. _I'm actually getting really tired of fish. Fish, fish, fish. Oh—hey, Harry, why is that girl staring at you oddly? _

Harry frowned, glanced down at Slyther, then looked up. It was true: someone down the table—someone very familiar—was staring at him. Or rather, glaring. Very obviously.

It was, Harry realized, Caoimhe Aureus. Topaz Aureus's daughter, the one who loathed Harry, mainly from (at least Topaz Aureus had said it was because of this) jealousy of Harry's fame. Harry hadn't seen much of the girl, but from her glare, it looked as if she had gotten her memory back.

_Harry,_ Slyther said, his voice lowering for no reason at all. It wasn't as if anybody could hear their conversation; only parselmouths could, and Harry didn't think there was many at the school. Except for Severus, Harry knew that Severus could speak parselmouth.

Harry immediately looked up at the staff table, where some of the staff had already sat down to have their lunch. He noticed Severus straightaway, and when the Potions master caught the stare, Harry smiled widely.

_That girl, it's Caoimhe Aureus, isn't it? _Slyther continued. _She looked unfamiliar. That was probably because I was cooped up in Snape's chambers for so long though,_ he added accusingly._ I probably forgot what she looked like. That's most definitely why I didn't recognize her. She looks a lot like Aureus, doesn't she? I wonder who her father is. I pity the man. Very, very much._

"Can we not talk about Aureus any more?" Harry asked the snake, his eyes down on the food that had appeared in front of him. He didn't feel like eating much, though. "Let's just eat, OK?"

_Fine,_ Slyther agreed. _But which one?_

Harry sighed out loud, eating a fried sausage. After swallowing (and adding a bit more into his mouth), he said, "Whaddya mean?"

_I mean, which one do you want to stop talking about? Aureus one or Aureus two?_

"Which one's which?" Harry asked, then inwardly shook his head. "Never mind. How about we don't talk about either one of them?"

_Fine with me,_ Slyther agreed_. Now—oh! Is … is that a treacle tart? Oooooh, please gimme!_

Harry reached over and picked up the treacle tart.

"Are you allowed with this? After all, you are a snake. For a long time you've ate just fish."

_I _am _a human, for Merlin's sake,_ Slyther replied.

"But I meant for your snake form. If you eat it, is it good for your snake form?"

_I don't know,_ responded the snake._ But can you please give me it? I haven't eaten one in so long … and last summer I was talking about them, remember? Oh, oh—thank you!_ His voice brightened as Harry set it down beside him. Then, with great relish, Slyther ate the treacle tart.

_-_

On Christmas morning, Slyther—or, Nathaniel—woke Harry up by pulling every blanket that was on top of him off. With the sudden burst of cold air hitting his body, Harry shivered and sat up, blinking sleepily.

"Classes _now?_" Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "It's so early, isn't it, Nicholas?"

"Close, but not quite," Nathaniel said. "It's actually Christmas morning and Snape is waiting for you to get up, and I'm Nathaniel, not Nicholas."

"Sorry," Harry said, yawning again as he stood up to put a bathrobe on. "I wasn't thinking."

"Wow, don't you seem excited?" Nathaniel teased. "What, is the great Harry Potter-Snape too great for Christmas?"

Harry gave Nathaniel a look as he stepped out of his room. "_No. _Christmas has just never been any fun, really."

"This is your second Christmas with Snape, whom you seem to actually like," Nathaniel said seriously, stopping. Harry did, too, and turned around to look at his friend. "And you're saying that it's not any fun?"

"This is my _first _Christmas with Severus," Harry corrected. "And if I remember right, the last Christmas Severus and I were given a Forgetfulness Potion."

Without saying a word, Nathaniel's mouthed an 'oh'. Then he cocked his head to the side, almost inquiringly.

"So, how horrible were your Christmas's with your relatives? Really bad?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, ready to go into the living room, where Severus was probably impatiently waiting. "It's nothing. Let's go, OK?"

Harry turned around, took one step forward, then was stopped by Nathaniel's hand, which firmly clamped down on his shoulder to prevent him from going anywhere. Slowly Nathaniel let go, letting Harry turn around to face him again.

"I want to know," Nathaniel said. "What were your Christmas's like with your relatives? Come on, Harry. You can tell me, you know you can."

It took a while for Harry to say anything, which meant that Severus was most likely getting more impatient, but in the end, Harry finally started talking.

"They were _all right,_" Harry said with a sigh following. "I didn't get any presents, except for a clothes hanger or a sock. But, still—"

Nathaniel smiled, cutting Harry off. "Thanks for telling me."

Harry nodded, a smile of his own appearing on his face. "You're welcome."

"Come on," Nathaniel nudged Harry forward. "Get going. Snape's probably going to burst. He's not exactly the patient type, is he?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head no. He continued down the corridor and into the living room where, just as Harry predicted, Severus was, (surprisingly, he only slightly looked) impatient.

"Sorry, sorry," Nathaniel said before Severus could get a word in. "I know we kept you waiting. Never'll happen again—Scout's honor." Then, Nathaniel frowned. "But I was never a Scout. At least, I'm pretty sure I wasn't."

Harry grinned, pushing Nathaniel down on the couch, saying, "Just sit down."

Then he too sat down beside Nathaniel, grinning at Severus. His eyes went to the decorated tree in the corner; of course Harry had a hard time getting Severus to get one, but was happy that the older man finally had, and it looked really good with the decorations and lights adorning the tree.

And after unwrapping all of his presents, Harry had to say that this was probably one of the best Christmases he had ever had.

-

Harry was happy with everything he had gotten: he'd received a Quidditch Through the Ages from Severus and a Jaffa cake, a delicious little cake thick with orange jam and topped with chocolate, from Nicholas. Harry was glad that the chocolate was the hard kind and not the creamy, easy-to-come-off chocolate. If it was the latter, he knew that the chocolate would've been on the cover of the box it came in instead of on the jaffa cake.

Nicholas had included a note saying that his grandmother had made a bunch of the cakes, and when he was asked if he had made any friends at Hogwarts and learned of Harry, that she insisted that he send a cake to him. Nicholas had included in the note how he was staying with his grandmother for the holidays instead of his parents, since they went on a vacation together for the holidays.

At dinner, Harry never remembered having such a Christmas meal: turkey, chipolatas, thick rich gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, eggnog, crumpets, trifle, Christmas cake, potatoes, wizard crackers.

Harry was glad that he was able to sit at the staff table with Severus for the Christmas dinner, as well. Slyther was on the floor behind him with his own little plate of food, seeming very much happy, and at the end of the feast, Dumbledore had given both Harry and Severus a small bag of lemon drops, which Severus wasn't too swift too accept.

The rest of the day, in Harry's opinion, went quite well. While they had mostly stayed in the chambers, Harry was happy that he was able to spend more time with his guardian, where as it was Christmas, a time where you should be spending time with your family and the people you love.

Now, Harry lay in bed awake. Nathaniel had stayed on the end of the bed as a snake, but sometime after he fell asleep he had, without meaning to, turned back into a human.

Harry watched Nathaniel sleep, wondering how he was able to sleep when he had such trouble trying to do the same. So, he carefully (so he wouldn't wake Nathaniel) got out of bed and started walking around his room. Maybe walking would help him get tired, then he could go back to bed and be able to sleep.

It didn't work, but he did find his invisibility cloak carefully folded and placed on his dresser. He picked it up and unfolded it, rubbing the material with his two fingers, liking the feel of it. And suddenly, he felt adventurous. With this cloak he was able to become invisible, so why not take a walk around the castle? Maybe, just maybe, if he walked around long enough he'd become sleepy.

Harry slipped the cloak over him and carefully, so not to make any noise, left the chambers. He made sure he was especially quiet when he passed Severus's room.

The corridor was quiet when everybody was sleeping. It was so quiet, so _still. _Like everything had frozen in time, and then everything felt so open to him. He was able to go _anywhere _without being caught. And now, he didn't feel the need to become sleepy anymore.

He crept through the corridors, soon finding himself in front of the library. Why had he come here, when there were so many other places to go? But then, he thought to himself, where exactly would he _go? _Going into the classrooms just to be there alone didn't seem appealing to him. He was there almost everyday.

Inwardly, Harry shrugged. The library could be a start before he figured out where else he'd go.

Harry went into the library, walking around bookcases and wondering what he should do. Should he pick up a random book and just start flipping through it? But what would be the point in that?

He stopped in front of the restricted section. He'd be able to go into there without anybody knowing about it—and he wouldn't get caught.

Just as he was about to step over the rope that separated the restricted section to the rest of the library, he heard footsteps in the distance, slowly coming closer. Harry looked back desperately. He didn't plan on this. What was he to do with the lamp? He couldn't set it down, because if he did, whoever was coming would wind up finding it.

He turned his lamp off and, while still under his cloak, he held the lamp he had just put out underneath with him. He pinched his lips together, careful not to make a sound. Maybe the footsteps would bypass the restricted section, or anywhere near it.

But they didn't. Instead, they came closer. Harry had a pretty good idea that it was Filch, browsing through the library and everywhere else to make sure that no student was out of bed.

As Filch's figure came into view and grew closer, Harry kept his mouth clamped shut, breathing very silently as he passed him. But as he walked slowly backwards, his banged into a bookcase. Filch immediately turned around, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Harry closed his eyes and kept his mouth shut, trying not to make any noise. Turning around, he slowly walked out of the library, careful not to bang into anymore bookcases on the way out.

-

Harry was finally able to let his breath out when he was far away from the library. Harry looked around, trying to think of where he was; because it was so dark out, Harry had trouble knowing where he was. If this kept up, how would he be able to go back to the chambers?

Harry walked forward as he heard a familiar, loud voice. It was Severus's voice, and that was why Harry went forward to see what he was doing instead of going back.

Then Severus's dark figure came into view, and so did Evangeline's. She had a scowl on her face, something Harry had rarely ever seen. Severus, too, had a scowl on his face, which wasn't that surprising.

"Honestly," Evangeline hissed, her hair that was made rather messily was coming out. "Keep your voice down before you wake the whole school."

She stood up straighter, possibly trying to look intimidating by making herself taller. Of course, she wasn't that tall, so she didn't make herself any taller.

"What's this about, anyway? I don't like being talked to in such a loud voice," Evangeline continued. "You better have a good reason for doing this."

"I want you to stay away from Harry," Severus said bluntly.

Evangeline laughed as if it were the funniest thing on earth. "Stay away from Harry Potter? He's my student; you're asking me to do something that's impossible. What are you afraid that _I'll _do to him? Hand him in to you-know-who?"

Evangeline shook her head, the smile still lingering on her face. She tilted her head to the side, looking amused.

"What's gotten into you? I'm a bit surprised by this, Severus. After all, we're talking about Harry Potter. I was almost sure that you'd treat him horribly since he's James Potter's son, but here you are, treating him as if he's your own." She shook her head, pretending to look amazed. "Funny, isn't it?"

Harry didn't wait around to listen to the rest of their conversation. Backing away slowly from the two, Harry slipped into a door on the left. He would just have to wait for Evangeline and Severus to finish their conversation.

Harry hoped that Severus didn't immediately go back to the chambers after he was done with the DADA Professor. What would he say if Severus found Harry's room empty except for Nathaniel?

Harry let out a small sigh and turned around, observing the room he was in. It seemed like it was an unused classroom, but in the middle of it stood a mirror. There was an something engraved at the top, but Harry didn't bother to try to read it. Instead, he stepped towards the mirror, studying it a bit more. But when he stood in front of it, expecting to see himself, he didn't; instead he saw two people: his mum and dad.

Harry felt as if he wanted to let out a cry, or make any sound at all, but his mouth wouldn't open. He slowly turned around where his parents in the mirror stood, but behind him stood no one. When he turned back, they were still there in the mirror. But then Severus slowly appeared behind Lily and James, and slowly … slowly … so did Nathaniel.

What was this mirror? Harry backed away from the mirror. Maybe Nathaniel would know about it. The older boy still didn't have much of his memory back yet, but maybe he'd know what the mirror was if he saw it.

-

Severus wasn't back at his chambers when Harry arrived, and he was thankful for that. Harry quickly made his way to his room to wake Nathaniel.

The boy was difficult to wake up, but finally, he did.

"What _is it?_" Nathaniel demanded as he sat up, his eyes still dropping once in a while. "It's still dark out. What's wrong?"

"I saw this mirror," Harry said quickly. "In this classroom. I saw my parents and Severus and … you! C'mon, quick—"

"You were just dreaming," Nathaniel said, but then he noticed that Harry's body was missing and that just his head was visible. "You're wearing your invisibility cloak?"

"_Yes,_" Harry said exasperatedly. "Change into a snake so I can take you with me. We should hurry before Severus comes back—so please?"

With a roll of his eyes and a sigh, Nathaniel changed into a snake and let Harry grasp onto him before putting the cloak over his head and rushing out of the chambers.

-

_This is it?_ Slyther asked once Harry re-entered the empty classroom that contained the mirror. As soon as Harry dropped the cloak and set Slyther down, the snake turned into Nathaniel.

"So … what do I do?" he asked Harry.

"Stand in front of the mirror," Harry said excitedly. "Just right in front. You'll see you, Severus and my mum and dad. It's really odd … I wonder why it shows them and you."

Nathaniel did as he was told, standing in front of the mirror. His face held a skeptical look, like he didn't believe Harry when he said that he saw his parents, Severus and him. But then, Nathaniel's figure straightened and his eyes widened. Extending a hand, he placed a finger on a spot beside his own reflection in disbelief.

"Well?" Harry said anxiously from behind Nathaniel.

Slowly, Nathaniel turned around, though with what looked like great effort to do so.

Harry frowned as Nathaniel paled, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Nathaniel shook his head, as if trying to clear it before saying in disbelief, "I—I saw my parents, Harry. They were there … in the mirror. I saw them."

Harry's eyes widened. "You did?"

Slowly, Nathaniel nodded. "H—Helen and Joshua Jacobs."

Harry tried to think of something to say. "Do you … remember them now, Nathaniel? Do you remember what they looked like, or … or talked like? Do you remember where they used to live before you left?"

Nathaniel turned to look into the mirror for the second time before facing Harry again, gradually nodding his head yes, to every one of Harry's questions.

-

A/N: Well, here is another chapter completed. Thanks for your patience, and review please!


	6. Remembrance

**Chapter Six**

"I—I—did you _really?_" That was the only thing Harry could manage to say. He was completely shocked, and as he tried to think of something to say, nothing came to mind. "Wow … this is big, Nathaniel."

"I—" Nathaniel shook his head, trying to clear it, and then wiped the back of his hand on his forehead. He looked pale, and his hand trembled slightly. "I know, Harry. It's weird though … because before I could only remember bits and pieces, but now—now I remember _everything. _Everything. My birthday, where I used to live, my parents, everything that happened at this school. Everything."

"Wow," Harry muttered, looking away. "This is good, though, right? I mean … of course it's good, you remember! Good. Very, very good."

Nathaniel looked down, too. He knew what Harry was thinking, and he was absolutely right. Now that he knew where his parents were, he'd be able to go home. But that meant he'd have to leave Harry.

"Yeah," Nathaniel said softly. "It's very, very good."

Harry let out a sigh that only he was able to hear, and then a blanket of silence covered them. Finally Harry glanced up.

"You can, uh, go back to the chambers, Nathaniel. Get some rest. I'm sorry I woke you up, but I'm gonna stay here for a while longer, OK?"

Nathaniel nodded, walking past Harry. When he reached the door, he glanced behind him over his shoulder as Harry called out his name.

"Yeah?"

"If Severus comes up to check on me," Harry started, "can you pretend to be me sleeping in the bed?"

"All right," Nathaniel said slowly, frowning. "How do I do that?"

"Just go to my room and sleep in the bed. Pull the covers up over your face. If Severus just checks in and sees you sleeping in the bed, he'll think its me, and he'll think that you're in your snake form sleeping beside me."

"OK," Nathaniel replied.

"And sleep on your side, too. With your back facing the door. And kind of bring your feet up, too, because your legs are longer than mine," Harry added quickly.

Nathaniel laughed. "All right, all right."

Harry watched Nathaniel leave, and suddenly he felt empty. What would he do without Nathaniel? He was his first friend that he ever had, and even though he still had Severus and Nicholas, he wouldn't have Nathaniel.

Harry sat down on the ground, in front of the mirror. It was his own fault that Nathaniel was going to leave. If he hadn't of brought the boy down to see the mirror, he wouldn't have seen his own parents in the mirror, and that way he wouldn't remember and he'd still be staying with Harry.

But it was also a good thing that he did, too. If it had been Harry that didn't remember anything, and suddenly he then knew who his parents were and where they had once lived (and possibly could still be living), he'd definitely would want to go see them.

Harry heard a noise behind him, but didn't bother to look back, since he already had an idea that it was Nathaniel.

Harry glanced behind him. "I thought you were—" But he cut himself off, his eyes widening. It wasn't Nathaniel who was standing behind him—it was Dumbledore.

"Oh, Professor!" Harry kept still, still sitting on the stone floor. Quickly, he scrambled up, his eyes still wide and fixed on the headmaster. "I'm sorry, sir—"

Dumbledore smiled warmly, walking towards the mirror slowly. "I see you've discovered the Mirror of Erised."

"This mirror?" Harry said, turning to look at mirror. "Er—yes, I did, but I didn't know it was called that."

"Do you know what it does?" Dumbledore questioned, glancing at Harry, who shook his head.

"No, sir. Does it show us what we want? I mean, I saw my parents, Severus and Nathaniel … and I always wanted to have a family. My parents, Severus and—and even Nathaniel."

"In a way," Dumbledore replied. "This mirror, Harry, shows us nothing more than our deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. So, like you have said, you wanted your parents and yourself to be a family. Together. But ever since you had been adopted by Severus, and you met Nathaniel Jacobs, you wanted a family with them, where nothing went wrong."

"Yeah," Harry said hoarsely. The only thing that went wrong was _Aureus—_she had to do everything possible to take him away from Severus and Nathaniel. The thought that she was in Azkaban brought little relief.

"And Nathaniel Jacobs wanted to remember his parents, to see them and to remember," Dumbledore continued.

"The Mirror of Erised will no longer be here tomorrow," Dumbledore went on. "It will be moved to a new home, so I ask you not to go looking for it."

Harry nodded. "OK, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Why don't you go back to bed, Harry, before Severus realizes that the boy in the bed isn't you?"

Harry smiled thinly. "Yes, Professor. Goodnight."

Dumbledore half-nodded. "Goodnight, Harry."

-

"Harry." The voice was soothing, warm. It was a familiar voice to Harry, but he was also surprised at how warm it was. "Wake up."

There it was again. He didn't feel like waking up, though; the voice just made him sleepier.

"Come, Harry, open your eyes. I have something … to tell you."

"What is it, Severus?" Harry murmured, blinking his eyes several times to keep them open. Severus sat beside him, one hand resting on the bed, the other shaking his shoulder gently to wake him up.

"Sit up."

Harry obeyed, confused. "What's wrong? You look so serious."

"This is a serious matter," Severus replied. "Now, that's it, sit up. I have something important to tell you, Harry, so please listen carefully, and please don't interrupt me."

Harry frowned, saying, "All right. What's wrong?"

"I had a talk with Dumbledore awhile ago," Severus responded. "He told me that you were out of bed last night and that you stumbled across the Mirror of Erised."

"Oh, yes," Harry said, looking down. "Sorry about that, Severus, I just couldn't sleep, and then … and then …"

"Shh," Severus instructed. "Don't interrupt me. Now, Harry, I'm afraid that this is the last straw. You go up and leave the chambers without telling me, especially at night? All I've wanted to do since I adopted you was look out for you, but I'm afraid I can't accomplish that if you go out roaming around the castle by yourself without me. Have you learned nothing from Aureus?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said, his voice rising a little. He didn't like the tone Severus was using now, it was so harsh; so cold.

"What I mean is, that this is the last straw. I can't be your guardian any longer."

Harry's heartbeat quickened, as did his breath. "What? No, Severus! What are you saying? Why would you say that?"

Severus scowled, now standing up. "Didn't I tell you not to interrupt me, Potter?"

Harry felt a lump in his throat and tried to swallow it. "S—sorry, Severus."

"That's _Professor Snape, _you insolent boy," snapped Severus, his face drowning in the same scowl that had been on his face for a while. "Perhaps your new guardian will put some manners into you."

"M—my new guardian?" Harry repeated, his voice weak. He didn't want a new guardian; he wanted _Severus _as his guardian. Why was the Potions master acting like this? So cold and mean?

"Mmm, yes," Severus replied, walking towards the door. "I think you'll remember her. She's an old friend of mine from Hogwarts when I went. She's actually very nice if you get on her good side."

Severus called out her name, but Harry was too shocked to comprehend what it was. His eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw the woman come into the room: her long, straight brown hair was so familiar it almost made Harry sick. Her blue eyes were what stood out the most.

Harry felt his vision swim, and he clenched his fists, closing his eyes to try to focus again. This wasn't happening, he told himself. It can't be. Severus wouldn't do it. It's one of … _her _… tricks, but how can she? It didn't make any sense.

The woman in front of Harry, his new guardian, was Topaz. Topaz Aureus.

"Hello, Harry," Aureus spoke softly, a warm smile placed on her face, but Harry wasn't fooled. Aureus was still the same old person as always. "You look pretty much the same as last time."

Harry swallowed, thinking of something to say. "Y—you're in Azkaban."

Aureus just laughed, but didn't say anything.

"Finally," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have you, just like I've wanted. You and me—a family."

_No,_ Harry wanted to shout, and squirm out of her grasp. _It's me and Severus! We're the family, you're nothing except for someone who wanted to marry James Potter and didn't! I'm glad, too, because I never want you to be my mother _or _my guardian!_

Harry wanted to shout, and squirm out of her grasp.

-

Harry shot up, squirming around in his bed, still trying to get out of Aureus's grasp. He could still feel her hands cupping his cheeks.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he lashed around, throwing himself around the bed, and ended up falling off it instead of getting away from her. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, finding himself still in his bedroom, but Severus and Aureus were gone.

Nathaniel was there, though, rubbing his eyes and looking around. Finally the boys eyes landed on Harry, and gave him a quizzical look.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"_Why am I on the floor?_" Harry yelled loudly, scowling. "How dare you ask me that question? You're suppose to be my friend! You're suppose to be there for me! But you let Severus _leave _me and give me to _her? _What's wrong with you? Why would you do that? Just because you remember who your parents are you think that you don't need me anymore so, oh, why not just let Aureus have him?"

By this time, Severus had entered Harry's room, looking down on the boy in the same confused expression that Nathaniel had.

"Harry? What in Merlin's name are you doing down on the floor?"

"_You!_" Harry hissed, jumping up and moving away from Severus. "How could you just hand me over to her like that? Why? Don't you care about me more than _that?_ Whoops, obviously not! No, the cold, heartless Potions master can care for no one but himself, isn't that right?"

Nathaniel stood up, his face masked in confusion. "Harry, what are you on about? Whatever it is, it probably was just a dream. No one's handing you over to anybody."

"You're just saying that," Harry said, his voice lowering until it sounded quiet and hurt, "to try to make me feel better. You have your parents, Nathaniel, Severus has _himself, _and I—I have—_Aureus …_"

Harry backed up into a wall and slid down it, his face buried in his arms.

Nathaniel gave Snape a look, throwing his head in Harry's direction. Severus shook his head, looking surprised. Nathaniel gave an exasperated look, walking over towards Harry. The man _should _know how to stop Harry from crying, he was his guardian after all.

"No one's handing you over to anybody," Nathaniel said gently, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders. "It was just a dream. A nightmare. It's not real."

"It was, though," Harry said, lifting his head to look at Nathaniel. "It _was _real. Severus was giving me up. Handing me over to … her."

"I'm not planning to, now or in the future, hand you over to anybody," Severus spoke up. "Come up off the floor, Harry."

Nathaniel retracted his arm and stood up, while Harry did the same.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I overreacted."

"Did you ever," Severus replied, walking over towards Harry and enveloping him in a hug. "Now get dressed so we can go down to breakfast."

"You could have done that instead of shaking your head like you did before," Nathaniel muttered to Severus.

-

"School starts up again soon," Nathaniel said conversationally in the chambers after they had their breakfast. Harry nodded lifelessly.

"Are you excited to see Nicholas again?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed as he faced the wall and rested his elbow on his leg; holding his chin in his hand.

An uncomfortable silence passed through them again, itching Nathaniel to start up a conversation again. Nathaniel played with his hands as he sat beside Harry, trying to think of something to say. Finally, he said, "I'm not going to get up and leave you now, Harry."

Harry turned his head to glance at Nathaniel. "I know," he said quietly. "I know you wouldn't. So … when are you … leaving?"

"At the end of the year," Nathaniel replied. "But it's still a pretty long ways away, you know. We still have a lot of time to spend together. And then, even when I do go back, I'll write to you every single day. I promise."

"I know you will," Harry said. "I will too. Nathaniel? Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Sure," Nathaniel agreed, sounding as if he understood completely. "Yeah, we can stop talking about it. So, now that we're _not _talking about _that, _what _do _you want to talk about?"

Harry glanced at Nathaniel, grinning. "Nothing."

Nathaniel gave Harry a look, then grinned back, nodding. "Sure, I guess I can do that. Nothing."

"But, before we do start to talk about nothing," Harry started, "I wanted to apologize for what happened this morning. I was acting so … I just overreacted. I know that it was a dream now, but before then … it seemed so real."

"Dreams tend to seem real sometimes," Nathaniel said. "I had this dream once that I was eating a chocolate gateau, and it was _so _good—and I remember being surprised that you didn't show up to stop me from eating the whole thing—but then I woke up, but I was so sure that it was real." Now, Nathaniel looked dejected. "It turned out I was stuffing a pillow in my mouth, not a chocolate gateau."

Harry laughed. "When was this?"

"Oh, a while ago. I was here in Snape's chambers while you were in your dorm or whatever. I'm glad no one was there to see me eat a pillow, though."

Harry smiled faintly, turning his head back around to stare at the while. "I didn't mean what I said before, about Severus," he said quietly. "I was just upset by the dream."

"I'm sure he knows that," Nathaniel said in an equally quiet voice.

"Does he?" Harry looked up at the older boy. "I hope so. You don't know how bad I feel for saying that. '_The cold, heartless Potions master can care for no one but himself?' _How could I have said that?"

"You were angry and confused," Nathaniel said. "It's pretty understandable, though you were right, you did overreact. Hey, since we're not talking about nothing, can you tell me what it was _exactly _that you dreamed about?"

"It was pretty normal at first," Harry said. "Severus came in to wake me up, saying that he had important news to tell me. Then he turned really … cold. He told me that, since I left the chambers and found that mirror, that he couldn't be my guardian anymore and—"

"I think I know the rest," Nathaniel interrupted. "You don't have to explain anymore, thanks. But why would he give you over to _her? _Did the dream mean something?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Last night I found Severus and Evangeline talking. Did I tell you? I don't think I did"

"No, you didn't," Nathaniel said. "I wonder what it is about Evangeline Fraus that makes Snapey not trust her."

"She does have a split personality," Harry commented. "Hey, Nathaniel? I don't feel like talking about this anymore."

"Understandable," Nathaniel replied, a grin slowly sliding onto his lips. "So … how about we talk about … Chocolate gateau?"

-

A/N: After I re-read this chapter … I found that it was _kind of _pointless. Some parts, I suppose, weren't … but … anyway, thanks for the reviews and for being so patient! R and R!


	7. Nicolas

**Chapter Seven**

"Today is the day!" Nicholas announced. He had returned from his Grandmother's house from the holidays, and he suddenly seemed to be firm and ready about something, something that seemed to be today. It confused Harry.

"The day for what, Nicholas?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised. Nicholas smiled, putting extra eggs and bacon on his plate.

"The day!" Nicholas repeated. "To _know, _finally, about who Nicolas is."

Harry frowned. "Well, I already know who Nicholas is."

Nicholas's fork dropped down on his plate loudly, making a huge clang. Several people at the Slytherin table stopped their conversations to look at the two, and then when all they saw was a confused Harry Potter-Snape staring at a open-mouthed, wide-eyed Nicholas Nixon, they went back to their conversations.

"Y—you found out? When? _How?_ We don't even know his last name! And you did it without me! How could you?"

Harry gave his friend a look. "You _know _who Nicholas is. It's you! You're Nicholas! Did you forget for a second who you were, or were you playing some sort of trick on me? Because I actually didn't fall for it."

"No, no," Nicholas closed his eyes and shook his head. "Not _me, _Harry, the Nicolas"—Nicholas dropped his voice and leaned forward, towards Harry.—"that _Hagrid _was talking about. The one he let slip? It's time we figure out who _he _is!"

Nicholas leaned back and straightened, and triumphant smile on his face as he half-nodded. "Yep. At least, I think it is."

"Why do you want to know who he is now?"

"Well …" Nicholas started to look uncomfortable. "Ever since Hagrid slipped about someone named 'Nicolas' I wanted to know who he was. I didn't tell you because I didn't think you wanted to know … and it's been bugging me all Christmas. So I want to start now."

"I—I guess," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been wondering a bit, too. Not a lot … but a bit. Not as much as you, I don't think."

Nicholas grinned.

"But did you ask someone? Your grandmother or someone that was a witch or wizard and went to Hogwarts?" Harry continued.

Nicholas shook his head. "Nope. If I did, Grandma'd start questioning me. 'Why do you want to know?' or something like … Oh, I dunno, something … But then I'd start telling her what happened, about how we ran into that … erm … thing? And how Hagrid started saying something about a Nicolas and how we were kinda trying to figure out who he was … I just don't think she'd like it."

"So you never asked," Harry finished.

Nicholas nodded. "Right. Did you … by any chance that it happened to come up … ask Professor Snape?"

Harry laughed. "If a conversation of how we ran into a dog with three heads and how Hagrid overheard us talking about it and said something about a Nicolas other than _you _came up? No, sorry, it didn't."

Nicholas gave Harry a look. "I was just asking. Should we go into the library after classes don't start for another day or two … we could have some time to look through _some _books, couldn't we?"

"Sure," Harry replied. "In your case, _some _books would be practically them all."

A faint blush crossed Nicholas's cheeks. He gave a small, careless shrug. "Does it matter that I _sometimes _like to read?"

Harry laughed. "No, I guess it doesn't."

-

"So, anything exciting happen here while I was gone?" Nicholas questioned as he and Harry made their way towards the library.

"Besides the fact that Nathaniel got his memory back and is leaving at the end of the year to find his parents? No … nothing."

Nicholas glanced at Harry, eyes wide. Even though he hadn't known Harry's snake, and best friend, that long, and even though Nathaniel did have a tendency to be sarcastic until it got annoying, he could actually miss that snake's sarcasm.

"Wow, I'm sorry. It must be hard, though … you two were practically brothers, weren't you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "He was my very first friend. Everything that happened … he was always there. Sure, I guess he was like a brother … and yeah, it is going to be hard. But I'll get over it."

"Here," Nicholas said, digging a Chocolate Frog out of his pocket and handing it to Harry. "It'll cheer you up. You collect the cards, don't you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders again, accepting the Chocolate Frog from Nicholas. "I guess henever I get one I keep the card."

"What one did you get?" Nicholas asked, stopping to see the card Harry got.

"Dumbledore," Harry replied. "I have him already."

"Do you? I don't!" Nicholas said, stepping in closer to get a better look. He looked up to see Harry wearing a surprised face.

"You don't? I have two of him. Here," he handed the boy the card. "Keep it."

"Thanks. This'll be my second one," Nicholas said, accepting the card. "All I have his Agrippa. I don't exactly collect them, but I'm starting to."

He studied Dumbledore's face, then turned the card over, reading the back. Harry watched as his friends eyes grew wide, almost too big for his face, and he let out a surprised breath.

"Right here," he said, not taking his eyes off the back of the card. "Right, here, Harry! _Nicolas Flamel. _It says here, "Dumbledore is particularly famous for the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel."

"Woah," Harry said, looking shocked. "I thought the name sounded familiar, Nicolas, other than you of course. I guess this is why. I read it on the back of Dumbledore's card."

"Great!" Nicholas said, looking happy. "Now we know who to look for: Nicolas Flamel! C'mon."

Nicholas walked more quickly to the library than before; Harry right behind him.

-

"Absolutely nothing about _anything _having to do with Nicolas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. Nothing!" Harry exclaimed, gently setting the book he was leafing through on the table. Both he and Nicholas were exhausted.

"I know," Nicholas said, stifling a yawn. "How about we look through one more book?"

"Why one more?"

"Because," Nicholas replied, "I'm too tired to look through another book, and so are you. I think if we look through two more I'll fall asleep right here."

"We should find a really thick book," Harry replied. "A thick book would probably have something to do with Nicolas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore more than a light book would."

"I guess," responded Nicholas. "But how do you know that a light book wouldn't have something of Nicolas Flamel in it, too?"

"Fine. We'll look through two books: the thickest one we can find and the lightest. If we can't find anything, we'll take a break and come back to look after."

"I'll look for a light book," Nicholas offered. "Do you want to look for a thick one?"

"Sure."

Nicholas was successful in finding a light book, but Harry was having a difficult time finding the thickest book he could find. Finally, he gave up, and decided to look through Nicholas's book before he resumed searching for the book.

"Nothing," Nicholas muttered, his eyes skimming the last page. With a scowl on his face, he slammed the book shut. "Nothing!" He looked at Harry, then looked over at a Gryffindor girl who was sitting reading a very a large book that lay open on the table in front of her.

"Let's go," Nicholas said, pushing his chair back to stand up.

"Go where?"

"Over there. See that book that girl is reading? I think it might be the largest one in the library. Maybe the second largest, but still—it could have something about Nicholas Flamel. It's worth a try."

Without waiting for a reply from Harry, Nicholas walked over to the bushy haired girl.

"Do you mind if we borrow your book? We're trying to look somebody up, and so far we're not having any luck."

Without questioning who the 'somebody' was, the girl closed the book and slid it towards Nicholas.

"Sure, take it. It's my second time reading it anyways."

Then she stood up, leaving the library. Nicholas exchanged a glance with Harry, but picked the book up and started flipping through its pages.

"We'll never find anything looking through it like that," Harry said, stopping Nicholas from going through anymore pages. "We'll have to read the whole thing."

Nicholas looked up. "_All _of it?"

"All of it," Harry confirmed. "Cheer up. Remember you like to read."

Nicholas looked down at the book. "Not this much!"

-

"I can't keep my eyes open anymore," Nicholas complained, squeezing his eyes shut and laying his head down in the book. So far, they had covered thirty-three pages of the thick book, and nothing so far about a Nicolas Flamel. "Who's idea was it that a thick book would say something about that Nicolas?"

Harry didn't answer the question. Instead he held Nicholas's head up to go to the next page. "Sit up."

Nicholas moaned, but sat up anyway. After a few more minutes of flicking through pages, Harry excitedly pointed out to Nicholas a page in the book … about Nicolas Flamel.

"'Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosophers Stone.'"

"The Philosophers Stone," Nicholas muttered thoughtfully. "I've never heard of it before. I wonder what it does."

"'The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with the making of the Philosophers Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

'There have been many reports of the Philosophers Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).'"

"Wow," Nicholas said in amazement. "Do you think somebody could be after it? It turns any metal into gold and makes you stop from ever dying?"

"Why would somebody want to steal it? No, wait, I know why they would … but why would you think it?"

"Well …" Suddenly, Nicholas looked uncomfortable, as if he regretted ever bringing it up. "Professor Snape _was _limping, you know. I know that you noticed it, too, so don't deny it! And then Evangeline Fraus? Her hand was cut. _Almost _cut off!"

"I know," Harry said quietly. "But how can you go accusing Severus of trying steal this Stone? Just because he was limping?"

"Sorry, it was just a thought. I know he wouldn't steal it." He didn't sound that convincing, but Harry let it slide.

-

A/N: I had kind of a writers block, so I decided to end the chapter here. Sorry for the short chapter!


	8. Hagrid

**Chapter Eight**

Nicholas hesitantly glanced at Harry during lunch a while after their day in the library. They still hadn't decided on whether they'd talk to Hagrid or Severus on what they had discovered on the Stone and Nicolas Flamel. Nicholas wasn't going to let Harry forget that they had to tell somebody, either.

"I vote for Hagrid," Nicholas finally said again. "Professor Snape would just be too hard to talk and explain to, don't you think? Hagrid, on the other hand, would sort of be … more … _nicer _about it?"

"I guess," Harry muttered.

Nicholas frowned, looking concerned. "What's the matter? I mean, if you _really _want to we can tell the Professor about it. Stop looking so upset about it, OK?" Nicholas laughed uncomfortably.

"No," Harry said, sitting up straighter, shaking his head. "I don't care who we see. But why are we doing that, anyways? What's the point?"

"Huh? Why are we what? Going to see Hagrid and tell him that we know about the You-Know-What?"

Harry nodded.

"Well," Nicholas continued, "we're going to see him so we can learn more about the Stone. _And _because of Professor Fraus. Don't you get a bad feeling from her? She could actually know about the Stone and be trying to steal it! I mean, it makes the person immortal. Who wouldn't?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Nicholas interrupted him.

"And I'm not going to say anything about Professor Snape either, so don't start getting defensive."

Harry scowled. "I wasn't. I was going to say that you're just _saying _that somebody's going to steal it. You don't know for a fact. I was going to say that you liked to look for adventure."

"Oh."

Nicholas became quiet, mainly focusing on the food in front of him. Harry watched in amusement as Nicholas glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye.

"So … Hagrid?"

Harry nodded, trying to contain a smile. "Yeah. Hagrid."

-

"I've never been under here before," Nicholas whispered as he and Harry crept through the halls under the Invisibility Cloak. "It's nice."

"Shhh," Harry instructed, putting a finger to his lips. He motioned his head towards the sound of loud voices that seemed to be fading a bit. "I think … I think it's Severus."

"And Professor Fraus," Nicholas added as he listened to the voices a bit more closely. His mouth turned down in disgust, and he gave Harry a look as he caught some of their conversation.

"What were _you _doing down there?" Evangeline's voice said. "You just assume that I was trying to get past those three-headed-dogs, Severus. You don't know that I was. What if I told you that … for some reason … I was wandering the halls and heard a commotion, and followed that commotion _there? _Hmm?"

There was a short pause before Evangeline continued.

"My previous question still stands, Severus. What _were _you doing on the third-floor corridor … on the right-hand side?" Harry could imagine her head tiliting, giving an innocent smile. "So many questions. If only we could have some answers."

"Yes," Harry finally heard Severus's voice drawl. "If _only._"

Without waiting for any more of the conversation, the two boys started again to find the door.

"Didn't you mention that you caught them talking before?" Nicholas said quietly. "What if … they're …"

The boy closed his eyes, looking a little bit green. "I'm not gonna finish that sentence, Harry. It's a bad thought; don't catch on to it."

Harry gave Nicholas a confused look, and then he too realized what Nicholas was trying to say. Immediately he felt as sick as Nicholas looked.

"How can you think that? It's Severus and _Professor Fraus. _I mean … er … it'd be so _odd _and … they, uh … don't really …—"

"I get it," Nicholas interrupted quickly. "Sorry for even bringing it up. Come on, the door isn't that far. Soon we'll be at Hagrid's."

"Mmm," Harry said quietly as he and Nicholas made their way to the door. Quietly they opened it up and stepped outside, quickly walking down the hill towards Hagrid's hut.

"By the way," Nicholas started, "I think Professor Snape having the hots for another Professor is … just … wrong. They shouldn't even be put in the same sentence together."

"Nicholas!" Harry said loudly, glaring at the boy. "Stop it. Think about something else, will you? Or if you keep thinking about that than keep your thoughts in your head." After a moments silence, Harry added, "But yes, I agree."

-

When they reached Hagrid's hut and knocked on the door, they heard Hagrid call quickly from inside, "Who is it?"

"It's us!" Nicholas replied. Only then realizing that Hagrid might not know who 'us' is, he elaborated. "Nicholas and Harry!"

"What're yeh doin' here?" Hagrid asked once he opened the door. "What're yeh doin' outta bed and—where are yeh?"

Harry took the cloak off. "Sorry, Hagrid, but we had to talk to you about something important. It's about the …" he trailed off.

"The Philosophers Stone," Nicholas put in. "We know about it."

Hagrid didn't say anything. Then, after a while, he opened the door, wordlessly inviting them in.

"Didn' I tell yeh not ter go meddlin' in it?"

"Well, yes," Nicholas replied, "but … you know … curiosity."

Hagrid sighed. "So why're yeh here?"

"To learn more about it," Nicholas said before Harry could say anything. "Plus, we have a theory. A theory that suggests that … maybe … somebody is trying to steal it. Maybe even more than one person."

"Oh?" Hagrid said, his bushy eyebrows raised. Harry felt like doing the same. After all, more than one person? Where'd that come from?

"Yes," said Nicholas, nodding his head as he sat down in Hagrid's chair. Harry stood, feeling too confused to move. "Yes we do. We believe that Professor Snape and Professor Fraus are—"

"No we don't!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. After the shocked expression left Nicholas's face, a confused one replaced it. "Since when did we think that Severus _and _Fraus were stealing the stone? You said that you suspected Fraus. That she looked like she was up to something."

"Well I did," Nicholas admitted. "But what about their very loud conversation we heard while coming here?"

Harry remained silent, staring at Nicholas. Suddenly, he heard Nicholas start talking. Not to him, but to Hagrid.

"See, when we were coming here to see you we heard Professors Snape and Fraus talking in the halls. Something about how they both caught each other in the third-floor corridor."

"You're just assuming that … that—" Harry started, only to have Nicholas finish the accusation for him.

"That Professor Snape stole—or is trying to steal—the stone? Who knows Harry, he could be, after what we heard. Him and Professor Fraus could be working together or something."

"But why would they try ter steal the stone?" Hagrid said. "They're the ones that helped protect it."

Nicholas didn't say anything. He looked down at his hands for a long while, then immediately looked up. "But then they have more advantages!"

Harry shook his head, standing up. He went over to Nicholas and took him by the arm, starting to guide him towards the door and saying goodbye to Hagrid at the same time. He turned his head around when he heard something.

"What's that?"

Hagrid looked back, trying to shield whatever it was behind his body. Nicholas took a few steps forward, his brow furrowed with interest and confusion. He peered behind Hagrid, trying to catch a glimpse, in the end succeeding.

"It's a … something," Nicholas said blandly. "But it's … _moving._"

"It's nothin'," Hagrid said quickly, trying to hurry them out. "Nothin' at all."

He was about to shut the door when Nicholas stuck out his foot in front of it. "What is it, Hagrid?"

Hagrid stumbled upon the words that spilled out of his mouth as he tried to come up with something to say, but in the end, ended up telling Harry and Nicholas the truth.

"This," Hagrid started, letting the two boys back inside the hut. When they were in he shut the door and walked towards the burning fire. "Is an … egg."

"An egg," Harry repeated, his eyes widening in surprise. "What _kind _of egg?"

"A dragons egg," Hagrid replied, rather proudly as he beamed down at the huge, black egg underneath the kettle.

"Where'd you get it?" Nicholas breathed, stepping closer to get a better look. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"I won las' night down in the village. Went down there fer a few drinks, an' ended up playin' cards with a stranger. He seemed a bi' glad ter be rid of it, actually."

"Wow. What're you going to do with it when it hatches? You live in a wooden cabin … I don't think it'd be right for a dragon to live here."

"I've bin doin' a bit o' readin'," started Hagrid. "It explains a lot 'bout dragons, an' in one part it tells how ter identify diff'rent eggs. This here? That's a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"But … you live in a hut," Harry repeated himself, trying to get through to Hagrid. He wasn't listening though; he seemed to be off in his own world, his eyes fixed on the egg that started to shake a bit more.

"It's hatchin'!" Hagrid exclaimed excitedly, rushing over to the fire with oven mitts on to take the egg out. Once he set it on top of the table, the egg started to crack. Long, jagged lines went through the shell, spreading all throughout the rest of it. Then, piece by piece the shell started to fall off until the whole top of the egg was gone, and a small black head popped out.

The baby dragon flopped out of the egg and onto the table. Harry stared at it, finding that it wasn't the prettiest sight and wondering if Nicholas thought the same. Hagrid, of course, thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever lay eyes on.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. "Look at him!"

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, Harry caught a flash of movement out the window. When he turned his head in that direction, nothing was there. Slowly, he started towards the door.

"What're you doing, Harry?" Nicholas called.

Harry didn't reply. Wordlessly, he opened the door to find Draco at the side of Hagrid's hut, fumbling with a branch that caught the end of his robes. He looked up, freezing.

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked before Draco could put a word in. "Were you … following us?"

"Of course not!" Draco snapped, scowling. He stared at Harry, his shoulders slumping slightly. "_Yes._"

"What's going on?" Nicholas demanding, walking outside. He stopped beside Harry when he caught sight of Draco. "Oh …. Were you following us?"

Draco bent down and took the end of his robe off the branch, walking away from Nicholas and Harry.

"Where are you going?" Nicholas called after him.

"_I _am going to go tell Professor Snape that you two got out of bed to come down here! I'm also going to tell him that Hagrid has a _dragon._"

"You can't!" Nicholas yelled, stepping forward. Harry was just about to say the same thing, but Nicholas had taken the words completely out of his mouth.

"Oh?" Draco whirled around, a smug look stitched onto his face. "Why not?"

"Because _you'd _get into trouble, too," Nicholas pointed out smoothly without any hesitation. "You were out of bed too, right? Whether you were following us or not. It'd be the exact same as if you were actually _with _us, except you preferred to stay outside when we were in."

Draco glowered at Nicholas, disgust purely written across his face now. Whirling back around, he started to stomp towards the castle.

A small smile placed itself on Nicholas's face. Almost as if in a singsong voice, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"To bed!" Draco called angrily over his shoulder without turning around.

"Make sure not to get caught!" Nicholas added, then with a smile, turned back towards Harry. "We should go, too, so we don't get caught."

"Right."

After saying goodbye to Hagrid and retrieving the cloak from inside the hut, the two boys headed back towards the castle.

The crept through the halls and back to their dorm, but when Harry stepped through he didn't feel right. He felt like … somewhere in the shadows there were … _eyes? _Watching them?

"Can you believe that Hagrid's got a drag—" Nicholas started in a low, quiet voice; almost like a whisper. Before Nicholas could finish the word, however, Harry nudged him in the side—hard.

"Ow," Nicholas moaned, holding his side. Harry looked at the boy apologetically.

"Sorry, but we're not the only two people in the room," Harry said, looking at Draco who pretended to be fast asleep.

"Indeed you're not."

Harry could recognize that voice anywhere. He glanced at Nicholas, who paled and seemed frozen to the spot. Finally the boy slowly turned around, offering a weak smile. Harry turned around, too, and saw that the 'something' in the shadows was Severus.

Harry wanted to say something, anything—even a pathetic, 'oh,' but nothing could come out.

"What are you two doing out of bed?" Severus drawled, his expression remaining impassive.

"_Well_," Harry started. "We … went to … to—to visit Hagrid."

"And _why _would you do _that _at this time of night?"

Nicholas jumped in this time, before Harry could say anything. "Because—"

"Because we know about the …," Harry interrupted, glancing quickly behind him. He dropped his voice lower than before, hoping for none of the other boys (especially Draco) to overhear him. "The … stone."

Harry wondered what the Potions master would do next. He wasn't sure how he managed to tell Severus the truth, but he did, and for some reason it felt good to tell him the truth.

Beside him he heard Nicholas sigh heavily. Severus still didn't say anything. Then, after a while, he spoke. "Fifty points from Slytherin and a weeks worth detention with me."

As Severus left, Harry glanced at Nicholas.

"You just _had _to tell the truth, didn't you?" Nicholas said, sighing again. Wordlessly Harry left the dorm and followed Severus.

When he finally caught up, he said, "It was a mistake for us to find the Stone, Severus. We didn't mean to."

Then, he started on telling Severus everything about the dog and the research. When he finished, Severus didn't do anything. He seemed stunned, and mad too.

"It was all by accident," Harry reassured. "Except for the research … we meant to do that. We were just curious by then, I guess."

Finally, the Potions Professor spoke. "I don't know what the purpose to you now is since you … _know, _so I don't know what to say."

That surprised Harry, since, usually, Severus always knew what to do or say.

"Just don't go digging any more deeper into this," Severus continued, his voice sounding rather harsh. "Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir, completely."

"Now go back to bed," the man instructed, wordlessly whirling around and resumed going down the corridor.

-

The next morning, Saturday, Harry and Nicholas decided to visit Hagrid again and see how his dragon was coming along. When they reached the hut, they heard loud sniffing.

"Hagrid?" Harry called tentatively. "Are you OK?"

The door swung open, revealing a distraught Hagrid. His face was wet and tearstained, and he looked tired.

"What's wrong?" Nicholas asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"It's … Norbert …," Hagrid replied with a sniff. "Dumbledore and Professor Snape came by las' night, sayin' that they knew 'bout Norbert an' that I had ter lettim go. Their takin' him … somewhere … tonight."

Guessing that the dragon was Norbert, Harry tried to think of something to say in response to that. "But they're not going to do anything other than that, right? I mean … you aren't allowed to have a pet dragon at school, are you? They could've—"

"I know, I know," Hagrid interrupted, opening the door further to let them inside. "They're jus' sendin' him away. Bu' what am I goin' ter do without my Norbert?"

A whole new fountain of tears bubbled in Hagrid's eyes as he looked at the baby dragon sitting on the table.

"Just be thankful that's all," Nicholas tried gently.

"How could they've known?" Hagrid continued on, staring at the dragon lovingly. "They on'y two people who knew were you."

"There was somebody else," Harry said, staring at the window, then up at Hagrid. "Draco Malfoy followed us. He was outside the window."

"He _said _he wasn't going to tell, because if he did he'd get in trouble too," Nicholas said irritably. "Obviously that was a lie."

"Well come on, he probably ran into Severus," Harry answered. "Then he'd have to tell. Besides, Severus likes Draco."

"He likes you too," Nicholas pointed out. "You're his adopted son, so, yeah, he must like you too."

"Not at the moment," Harry muttered. Nicholas raised his eyebrows, giving Harry a questioning look.

"What?"

"I—" Harry stared at Nicholas for a long time before starting over again. "You remember when I went after Severus last night? Well … I—"

"You told him," Nicholas interrupted, finishing Harry's sentence. "You told him everything we told Hagrid, didn't you?"

"The research," Harry started, "the dog—" he glanced up at Hagrid. "_Fluffy—_"

"Was he mad?" Nicholas questioned immediately. "Did he give us more detentions? Take more points off? Are we going to get expelled? _Why did you do it?_"

"He didn't do anything," Harry replied. "He told me not to go digging any more deeper than we already have into this, though."

"That was it?" Nicholas said, looking amazed. "And—how come you didn't tell me sooner? Like after it happened?"

Harry ignored Nicholas and looked up at Hagrid. "I'm sorry that they're taking … Norbert, away. But don't you think it'd be better than him growing up in a wooden hut? It's not exactly—"

Harry stopped as Hagrid started crying again, and slowly he and Nicholas left Hagrid alone with Norbert.

"I feel sorry for Hagrid," Nicholas said as they walked towards the castle. "But, I'm really glad that Professor Snape didn't give us anymore detentions. I'm already dreading Monday."

"Monday?" Harry asked, glancing at Nicholas in curiosity. "Why Monday? Detention starts today."

"_What?_" Nicholas yelled, abruptly stopping at a halt. "I thought they started on Monday?"

"Nope. I—"

"_That's _where you went!" Nicholas suddenly yelled. "At breakfast you said you had to go somewhere, but you didn't tell me where! You went to go see the Professor and see when the detentions started. But … why didn't you just tell me?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I guess I just went to see him to see if he was still mad at me."

"Was he?"

"I don't know. He was acting … brief, though, so maybe he is. I also wanted to go down to the chambers to see Nathaniel, too."

"He wasn't in his chambers?"

Harry shook his head. "No. He was in his classroom."

"I bet that's our detention," Nicholas muttered as he started back up towards the castle again. "Cleaning out the cauldrons."

"I dunno."

As they continued towards the castle, their conversation slowly merged into silence until all there was between them was silence. As they approached Professor Fraus's classroom, Nicholas stopped Harry.

"I haven't been doing so good in DADA," Nicholas said in a whisper. A light, pinkish color rose in his cheeks. "Fraus says I'm not paying attention as well as she wants me too. I can't help it; her voice is just so … y'know … it makes me want to fall asleep."

Harry grinned. "So you have to meet her?"

"She wants me to see her," Nicholas said, scowling. "I really don't want to, but—"

"Go in there," Harry interrupted. "I'll wait out here."

Nicholas went forward, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door. Harry frowned as Nicholas stopped, his arm poised in the air in front of the door. He didn't move, but his body leaned closer to the door, and his arm slowly dropped to his side.

Harry stayed in his spot while Nicholas just stood there, then after a while the boy ran back to Harry, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"She's talking to someone in there!"

"Is it Severus?"

Nicholas shook his head, glancing at the door. "No, it's really weird. She's talking to _herself. _Her voice gets so... cold and harsh, and then the next it's just normal._"_

"You sure?" Harry asked. "Or are you saying that because you want to find another adventure again?"

"No! I'm serious!" Nicholas said. Suddenly, he gave Harry a strange look. Not because he was offended that Harry didn't believe him, but that the boy's face reflected pain. Slowly, Nicholas watched as Harry started to rub his scar.

"What's wrong?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "There's a weird, tingling feeling in my scar, but … it feels hot, and it hurts."

"Should I take you to the hospital wing? Or Professor Snape?" Nicholas asked, looking worried.

Harry shook his head. "No, just go and talk to Professor Fraus."

Nicholas gave Harry a look. "Someone's _in _there with her—"

"Just go. Knock on the door and if she opens it, maybe you'll see who she was talking to," Harry suggested.

Nicholas nodded, then went back over to the door and knocked. There was a long, long silence after Fraus's, "I'll be right there!" Then finally, the door opened. Harry watched as Nicholas went inside the classroom, gave Harry a look, then turned back.

-

"We're going down to Snape's chambers _why, _again?" Nicholas asked as Harry dragged him down to Severus Snape's chambers.

"Well, exactly what you told me before. Fraus is doing something tonight, you heard her. We have to tell Severus about it. Maybe then, if we tell Severus, then he can tell Dumbledore," Harry explained.

Nicholas gave Harry a look.

"Don't you think we should at least tell somebody?" Harry asked.

Nicholas nodded, sighing. "Yeah, OK, I guess."

-

"Of course," Nicholas muttered, stopping halfway where they were going. "I _knew _you'd choose to tell him! Of course, of course, of course … did I even have to guess?"

Harry sighed, turning around to look at him. He gave the boy a look.

"Why _wouldn't _I? He _is _Head of House—"

"That doesn't matter!" Nicholas yelled, throwing his hands up and scowling. "_He _is also the one trying to—"

"_No!_" Harry, too, yelled. "You just think that! You don't know for a fact!" After taking a few minutes to calm down, Harry tried speaking again. "How about we don't tell him now? We'll wait until tomorrow."

Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest, looking irritated. "Tomorrow's the exams."

"We'll go after," Harry suggested, waiting patiently for Nicholas to reluctantly agree. After a few minutes of standing in the middle of the corridor waiting, Nicholas finally let his arms drop to his side, and nodded.

-

A/N: I was thinking of making it longer, but I felt guilty for leaving this … well, for this long. I meant to update quicker, but I got sidetracked.

Anyway, since the next chapter WILL probably be the last chapter of PART ONE, I will work on the next chapter to this story instead of working on the next one for _**Unbreakable. **_So, sorry people who read that story, no update for that story yet. I'll try to be quick on everything, though!


	9. End

**Chapter Nine**

Things couldn't of been worse … for Nicholas, anyway. He was still positive that somebody was going to try to steal the stone, and slowly, after what happened with Evangeline Fraus, Harry was beginning to think the same thing.

What else? It seemed that Dumbledore had left on urgent business.

So, Nicholas had convinced Harry that it was going to be tonight when everything was going to happen. It took Nicholas half the day trying to get Harry to finally understand, and eventually he did.

"We'll wait until late tonight," Nicholas had whispered at supper in a very low voice. Even Harry had trouble hearing what he said. "OK? Until everybody's asleep, then we'll leave."

"What if we get caught? Wouldn't we be expelled? Severus sure made it sound like it when he said that we weren't to go 'digging any deeper than we already have' into this."

"Oh … well … this is important!" Nicholas had pointed out. "Especially if it's _Fraus _that's going to try to steal it. Did you see the way she acted, Harry? And what about the way she was talking to herself in her classroom? Not normal."

"I guess," Harry had replied with a sigh. "So … you're off saying that it's _Severus?_" His voice had sounded hopeful, and Nicholas's expression was a bit doubtful.

"I don't know. You _know … _there _is _a possibility that they could be work—"

Harry gave Nicholas a dark look. "Don't even _try _finishing that sentence."

Now, both boys lay in bed staring at the ceiling and waiting until everybody in their dorm seemed to be asleep, then slowly they sat up and crawled out of their beds.

Wordlessly creeping down to the common room and towards the door, both of them jumped when they heard somebody talk from behind them.

"Where are you going?"

Harry froze for a moment, absorbing the cold, suspicious voice. Then he realized that that cold, suspicious voice was Draco Malfoy.

"Huh?" Nicholas said quickly. "Going where? Eh?" Then he looked around, at Harry, at Draco, and everywhere else. He looked genuinely confused. "Oh … I must've been sleepwalking! I do that occasionally. H—Harry, what're you doing?"

Harry turned around and gave Nicholas a look, but decided to play on. "I … followed you. Wanted to make sure that you didn't hurt yourself by sleepwalking. I couldn't wake you up, either. It's not good for somebody to wake up a sleepwalker."

"Wow," Draco said, his eyebrows briefly shooting up, then down. "Very convincing story, guys. Now, really: where're you going? If you don't tell, then _I'm _going to tell Professor Snape that you two are planning something."

Harry and Nicholas exchanged glances, both shrugging their shoulders. What could they do? They could always use their wands on them … since they did bring them; they also brought the invisibility cloak. But until now, Harry just realized that he hadn't put them on.

"OK, we'll tell you the truth," Nicholas said with a heavy sigh. "What else can we do?" He gave Harry a desperate look and helplessly shrugged his shoulders. Then he told Draco the truth, which really surprised Harry. He expected Nicholas to make up something convincing and say it was the truth.

"So … you're going to _rescue _a _stone _that you don't even know is going to be taken tonight?" Draco summarized. He had a ton of different expressions on his face, making it hard to tell which one he really felt.

"Right," Nicholas confirmed with a sigh. "Please don't tell anyone, OK?"

"All right," Draco agreed slowly … and actually, a little too easily. "As long," he continued, "as I get to come with you."

If Nicholas had been drinking something, he knew at that point he'd most likely spit it out. "Excuse me?"

"I want to come with you," Draco repeated. "I won't tell as long as you let me come with you."

Giving Harry a look and raising his eyebrows, Nicholas shrugged. "Sure, why not? More the merrier, right?"

"_What?_" Harry still couldn't believe that Nicholas was letting Draco come along with them.

"Sure," Nicholas said, shrugging once again. "Now hurry up … we gotta get there in time, don't we?"

-

"I'm going to blame it all on you two if you get caught and make Slytherin lose points," Draco said as they crept through the corridor. "Got that?"

"Sure," Nicholas hissed, giving Draco a nudge in the ribs. "Shut up now, 'kay? Or we _will _get caught."

"Don't tell me to _shut up,_" Draco said with a scowl. "I can talk as much as I want."

"We should of used our wands on him," Harry said, annoyed, to Nicholas, ignoring Draco.

"_Shhhhhhhhh,_" Nicholas said as they reached their destination. He pointed a finger at the door, which was wide open. "Somebody's already been here."

"I bet you know _exactly _who it is," Harry said sarcastically. "Right?"

"Well, I have a pretty good idea," Nicholas said, "yeah."

"Come on," Harry said, continuing towards the door. When they stepped in they faced the large dog, sound asleep. Draco let out a noise, taking a step back. Nicholas grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from going back any farther.

"Look," Nicholas whispered, nodding his head towards the harp that was magically playing by itself. Harry tugged the cloak off.

"We should lift its paw to get to the trapdoor before the harp stops playing," Harry said. "I actually didn't know that playing music would put it to sleep. Did you?"

"No," Nicholas admitted. "I don't even know what we'd do to get by it if there wasn't a harp. We should've thought first, huh?"

"C'mon," Harry said, and he, Nicholas and Draco took the paw and moved it aside. The dog moved a bit, but that was all; it still stayed asleep.

Nicholas and Draco went first. Harry went after them, and he was thankful that the harp stopped playing when it did.

"What is this stuff?" Draco yelled, struggling as the vines that they landed on started to wrap around his neck, waist, ankles and wrists.

"I don't know," Harry said, his voice cutting off as one vine wrapped around his waist tightly. He was able to look at Nicholas, who wasn't moving at all. It looked like he was frozen to the spot.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded.

"I can't move," Nicholas said, his mouth barely moving. "I'm going to die!"

"Come off it," Harry said, trying to free his arm. "We're not going to die! Just keep moving."

"I can't," Nicholas whimpered. "If I move the vines will just keep wrapping around tighter. I don't wanna die like this."

"Oh, really, Nixon!" Draco said, scowling. "Just sitting there isn't going to help any!"

Both expressions slipped off Harry and Draco as the vines started to go around Nicholas's whole body, and then he started to sink … like it was _eating _him.

Draco made a noise, then after a few moments started to violently thrash around. "Let me go! I don't want to die like Nicholas!"

"I'm not dead!" Nicholas's voice exclaimed happily. "Just do what I did, OK? Don't move."

"Don't _move?_" Draco exclaimed. "If we do what you did then we'd die!"

"No!" Nicholas replied. "No, you don't die. It sort of … spits you out. I'm not dead!"

Draco watched in horror as Harry stopped moving completely, then the vines started to eat him too. Then he sunk … and was gone.

"Just relax!" Two voices now said to Draco.

"Nicholas was right, it just spits you out! _Trust us!_"

Draco hesitated, then after a moment he took in a huge breath and kept it; not moving a muscle. His face tightened as he started to sink through the vines, and he squeezed his eyes shut, and then he landed on something—not as soft as the vines—but _hard. _The ground.

"I'm alive," Draco said, standing up. He looked all around him, then when his eyes landed on Harry and Nicholas he gave them a dirty glare. "I didn't think that doing _this _would mean risking my life! That's it—I want to go back and tell the teachers."

"Fine," Nicholas agreed, giving Draco a glare of his own. "Go ahead. Come on Harry, we have a Stone to save."

Without another look backwards, Nicholas started going in the direction he thought the Stone would be in. Harry followed.

"Where's the exit?" Draco yelled after them.

"Figure it out for yourself!" Nicholas said without taking a look backward. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he heard Draco catch up with them, obviously changing his mind about leaving.

"Listen," Harry said, stopping Nicholas and Draco. A soft whooshing sound could be heard up ahead. "Doesn't that sound like wings?"

"Wings on what?" Nicholas asked, all three continuing to walk again. When they got there, they saw a room full of keys with wings flying up high. To the side was a broom.

"Look at the door," Draco said, pointing to the big wooden door up ahead. "Do you think that's the way out?"

"No," Harry said, looking doubtful at the thought. "We probably have to get past these keys to the door."

"Great," Nicholas said cheerfully. Then he shot towards the other side of the room, saying as he did, "RUN!"

They managed to get to the door, but it was locked.

"What now?" Draco said, throwing his arms up in the air.

"One of us, since there's only one broom, will probably have to catch the key that fits into the door," Nicholas said. "Wouldn't you think?"

"I say _I _should do it. I am very talented on a broom," Draco said proudly.

"_I _say Harry should do it," Nicholas said, giving Draco a look. "He is on the Quidditch team. Now _he's _talented on a broom, wouldn't you say?"

Draco folded his arms over his chest, muttering under his breath.

"Go ahead, Harry," said Nicholas. "Now look for a key that's … old, I guess, and would look like it'd fit this door. A really old key that's been used."

Nicholas watched as Harry mounted the broom then went up in the air, with the keys all attacking him at once. When Harry finally managed to grasp onto the old key, he rushed forward, dropping it in Nicholas's hands. Soon enough the door was open and all three boys were out of the room safely.

"Great, how convenient," Draco said sarcastically as they came to their next destination. "You've taken us to a graveyard, Nixon. How convenient for us, right?"

"I—I don't think it's a graveyard," Nicholas said, frowning in confusion.

"It's a chessboard," Harry said, taking a few steps forward. He was right, it was a _huge _chessboard.

"So … what do we do with it?" Draco questioned.

"We probably have to play," Harry said. "To get where we want to go next?"

"Well then, let's play!" Nicholas said.

-

It was odd to play this kind of chess, where you had to be the chessman, Harry found, but they had to play across the chessboard to go where they needed to go.

Harry didn't like what Nicholas was about to do, though. He wanted to sacrifice himself so Harry could checkmate the king.

Harry tried to argue with him, but Nicholas's mind was firm and made up. He wasn't about to change it any time soon.

When Nicholas moved a step forward, the white queen was on him and hit the boys head with her stone arm. Nicholas fell to the floor, knocked out.

Harry made his move, walking three spaces to the left.

They had won.

Immediately Harry went over to Nicholas. He didn't seem hurt fatally.

"Is he dead?" Draco asked, coming over to the two.

"No, but he's out cold."

Draco sighed, motioning towards the door. "Go save the Stone, Potter. I'll stay with Nixon; take him up to the Hospital Wing."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Positive," Draco replied, and that was it. He got up and followed Harry towards the door. "There must be something to help us get back out."

And there was. It was a logic puzzle.

Harry read it in his head, looking at the vials that were in front of him.

"_One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead." _

Those were the words that stood out the most. Harry looked from the puzzle to the vials.

"Three of these must be poison," Harry said, "two must be wine, one to get us through the black flames and another one to get us through the purple."

He studied the puzzle again, then the vials, then the puzzle. Then he carefully selected two vials: a small one and a rounded one.

"Here." He handed Draco the rounded vial. "Drink this and be careful with Nicholas, OK?"

"All right," Draco said. But before he left, Harry could've sworn he heard Draco give a, "Good luck," under his breath.

-

When Harry went through the black flames to the last chamber, he was surprised to find himself not even surprised as to who was standing there in front of him.

It was like he knew who it was all along, but yet … he couldn't help but _not _feel surprised at all.

With her hands clasped behind her back, Evangeline Fraus gracefully made her way in front of the mirror. "It'd be so nice if I could just see where the Philosophers Stone is. Wouldn't it, Harry? You see, I really need that Stone, but in this mirror I don't see it."

She sighed, turning around to face Harry. He watched as Evangeline's face turned warm and understanding.

"You know where that bloody stone is, don't you Harry?" She said in a gentle voice, as if talking to a little boy. "Come now, can you tell me? I really need this Stone. You see, it's for the Dark Lord."

"Of course it is," Harry spat. "You want him to live forever."

Evangeline smiled. "Clever, clever, clever! Now, can you please tell me where that darn Stone is?"

Harry looked at her, disgusted as she continued to treat him like a three-year-old. "I have no clue where the Stone is," he said. "So I can't help you."

Evangeline studied Harry, then held out her arms. "Come over here, Harry."

Harry didn't move.

"No, come here, it's all right."

Still, Harry didn't budge.

Evangeline now looked like she was about to burst. All traces of warmth had left her features, and he was left with a cold and malevolent-looking Evangeline Fraus, her eyes having a dangerous, furious glint to them. "When I say _come here, _Potter, I mean it! _COME HERE!_"

Slowly, Harry went towards Evangeline. She put her hands on his shoulders and guided him towards the mirror.

Harry just scowled at the reflection in the mirror.

"Thank you for cooperating. Now what do you see in this mirror?"

Harry watched, waiting for his parents, Severus and Nathaniel. Not one appeared in the mirror, except for his own reflection. Then, his reflection did something strange: it had a red stone in its hand, and with a wink dropped it into his pocket.

At about the same time he felt something heavy against his leg.

"I see myself with my family," Harry lied with a shrug.

"Somehow," Evangeline said slowly, circling the boy. "I don't believe that you're telling the truth." She chuckled. "Come on now, you can tell me. If you truly do see your family, then look me directly in the eye and tell me."

Evangeline stood in front of Harry, staring him in the eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but she was looking at him so intensely that he had to look away.

Evangeline let out a noise, then squatted until she was the same height as Harry. "Tell me the truth."

Harry didn't say anything. He kept his eyes down at the floor, but when he finally took the chance to glance up at Evangeline Fraus, he saw her staring at his pocket. When he looked down to see what she was looking at, he noticed that his pocket had a bulge from where the Stone lay. Immediately he knew that she knew it was there.

He backed away from her, but as he did Evangeline took a few steps forward. "It's in your pocket," she said, her eyes not leaving that spot. "Please give it to me, Harry. Give me the Stone."

"No," Harry said, still going backwards. He stopped when he was too close to the flames.

The wild look returned to Evangeline. "I am _sick _and _tired _of playing nice with you Potter! You'll give me that stone _now!_"

Then she did something unexpected: she leapt. Evangeline landed on Harry, her hands on Harry's arms. He couldn't move at all. Evangeline had to let one arm go so she could use that hand to get the Stone from Harry's pocket, but Harry used this as an advantage.

He took his free arm and held Evangeline's neck. The blood rushed to her face, but she let go of his other arm. He let go of her neck and used both arms to push her back off of him. She staggered backwards into a wall. Harry watched in horror as her head collided with that wall, and she slid down it. There was a nasty gash in her head where the blood spilled down her face and onto the floor.

Did he kill her? Harry felt nauseas, and he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach like he was going to throw up. His vision swam and he felt dizzy, but instead of vomiting he fell to the floor, everything going black, not realizing that the Stone wasn't in his pocket. Aureus did manage to get the Stone, but when she hit her head the Philosophers Stone fell from her hand and lay in the center of the room.

The last thing Harry saw before he fell to the ground was a black mist slowly seeping out of Evangeline Fraus's dead body, but didn't have a clue what happened next.

-

Harry woke up in an unfamiliar place. Blinking a few times, he found that the reason it was unfamiliar was because he didn't have his glasses on. As if somebody had read his mind, Harry felt something settle on the bridge of his nose, and then he could see.

Severus Snape sat beside Harry in the hospital wing, an impassive expression on his face. Harry just stared at the older man, not exactly sure what he should say, or what Severus was going to say. He didn't have to wait much longer.

"Didn't I tell you," Severus started, "not to go digging around anymore?"

"I wasn't digging anything," Harry said. "Nicholas had a suspicion that somebody was going to try to steal the Philosophers Stone, and he was right." Almost immediately after Harry finished his explanation did he ask, "What about Nicholas and Draco? Are they OK?"

The impassive look left, but his expression then turned hard. "They're fine. What were you thinking, risking your lives for a Stone?"

Harry looked down at his hands, not answering that question. "What about Evangeline Fraus?"

Severus's face softened. "She's dead."

Harry tried not to feel guilty, but he did. _He killed somebody. _"I killed her," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I killed somebody. I'm … a … I'm a murderer."

"You _aren't _a murderer," Severus said. "You had good reasons for it."

"No—no," Harry said, shaking his head. "She pinned me to the ground. That's no reason for murder."

Severus didn't reply.

"I didn't mean to, though," Harry added quickly. "I just pushed her off me. I didn't mean to kill her intentionally."

"I know," Severus said. "But why did you do it?"

"I just said I didn't mean to do it!" Harry said. "It was a mistake, I swear."

"No, not that," said Severus. "Why did you go after the Stone after I _specifically _told you not to? Didn't I insinuate that there would be severe consequences?"

Harry sighed. "I'm expelled, aren't I?"

Severus gave Harry a long look before answering. "No, you're not. Neither are Mr Nixon or Mr Malfoy."

"What about the Stone?" Harry inquired. "What happened to that?"

"It's destroyed," Severus replied simply. "I'll go and let you have a rest. Dumbledore should be in in a while to explain a bit more thoroughly."

"All right," Harry said, staring at the ceiling as his adoptive father left. He still felt … weird. He killed somebody. That was a hard thing to grasp, but it's over. Done with.

-

"So we won the house cup," Draco said, scowling at Nicholas as they started to board the Hogwarts express. "It's a good thing. So _what _if I said that you and Harry'd make us lose points? It was a dangerous situation we were in."

"I realize that," Nicholas said. "I just like you being wrong."

He turned around to face Harry, who stood beside the entrance to the train. "So we'll see you, Harry?"

"Yeah, 'course," Harry said with a grin. "I wish I could ride the train with you two, but I have to stay at Hogwarts a little while longer with Severus and stuff."

"Yeah," Nicholas said, nodding. "Tell Nathaniel that I'll miss his sarcastic comments, OK?"

Harry forced a smile onto his face. "Sure."

"Well, let's go get a compartment," Nicholas said to Draco, giving Harry another smile before disappearing into the train.

"Bye Harry," Draco said, following Nicholas.

-

When Severus returned Harry to the castle after he said his goodbyes to Draco and Nicholas, Harry immediately went down to the chambers to see Nathaniel.

Nathaniel was waiting on the couch with a box in his hands when Harry entered. He smiled when Harry came over to sit beside him.

"So where're you going?" Harry asked.

"I thought I'd Floo myself to our—er, your—house and start from there," Nathaniel said. He offered Harry a smile. "I'll get to see Amaryllis, too, before I leave."

"You're going to keep in touch with her, too?"

"Of course. You as well," Nathaniel replied. He laughed. "Now onto the sentimental part, huh?" he laughed again. "Thank you for putting up with me, Harry. I really appreciate all that you've done for me. I really am going to miss you." He glanced at the box, then gave it Harry. "This … is yours."

Harry gave Nathaniel a confused look, but opened it anyway. Inside was a snake that looked almost _exactly _like Nathaniel looked when he was a snake.

"You can name him whatever you want," Nathaniel said. "Just don't name him Slyther. Or Slyther Two, or anything with Slyther in the name." he grinned. "It's my name."

Harry grinned. "I promise that I won't. I really hope that you find your parents."

"Me too. I _really _hope that they didn't move out of the house," Nathaniel said with a laugh. He stood up and went over to the fireplace, taking a handful of the powder. Harry watched as his friend left.

"Stay in touch," Harry muttered after Nathaniel was gone from sight. He looked down at the box and picked up the snake.

"Come on, Mr Hiss."

_Ohhh boy, _the snake said. _You're not serious. _

Harry grinned. "No. What about Rumplesnakeskin?"

_A sense of humour, _the snake said approvingly.

"OK. Syther."

_Huh? _

"Your name. Syther."

_It may not be Slyther, _Harry thought, _but it's the closest name that I'd like it to be. Now every time I say its name I'll think of Slyther, and that way, I'll never forget. _

_If that's the best you can come up with, _Syther replied. _Syther it is. _

**End **

A/N: ALRIGHT! The end of Part One! Stay tuned for part two … Coming Soon.


	10. Part Two

A/N: Part two up! Thanks for waiting, and enjoy!

**Part 2 of 7 **

**Chapter One**

Harry still wanted some answers about Evangeline Fraus. Even though she was dead, Harry had decided to ask Severus what happened to Voldemort. Is he still alive, living in the body of another Muggle?

"Probably not," Severus replied after Harry had voiced his question. "If the Dark Lord took over a Muggle's body, Fraus needed the Stone to keep the Dark Lord's soul in that body, or any body for that matter. Without it, his soul would simply … leave the body."

"So, is the man dead? The one that Voldemort took the body of before Evangeline Fraus?" Harry asked, his snake, Syther, curled around his arm.

"Probably," responded Severus. Harry sighed and stood up, excusing himself to go to his room. When he opened the door, Harry froze when he saw a familiar house-elf in his room. At first, he thought it was one of the house-elves from the kitchen, then realized that it wasn't.

"Who are you?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I is Dobby, sir," the house-elf replied, its large eyes seeming to get wider. "'Tis an honour, sir. 'Tis an honour!"

"Dobby," Harry mused. "Aren't you Draco's house-elf?"

At this point, Dobby's eyes did get larger. Harry was almost afraid that, of how big they had become, that they would be too large for his face.

"You must tell no one of Dobby being here!" Dobby said in a desperate, whispery voice. "Dobby is here to warn Harry Potter, sir, that …"

"That?" Harry said gently, wondering what the elf wanted to tell him.

"That Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!" Dobby finally said. "If Harry Potter does … he will be in great, great danger."

"What?"

"Bad things will happen at Hogwarts this year," Dobby said.

"What bad things?" Harry said, trying to understand what Dobby was saying. "What'll happen? Why are you telling me?"

"Because Dobby knows that Harry Potter is a good wizard," Dobby replied. "A good wizard is Harry Potter."

"A lot of people don't think so," Harry said. "Considering I'm in Slytherin."

"Harry Potter is still a good wizard and will achieve many great things," Dobby responded. "That is why Dobby is warning him not to go to Hogwarts."

After Dobby gave Harry a long, meaningful look, he spoke again.

"Say it, sir. 'Harry Potter will not go to Hogwarts.'"

"I can't!" Harry hissed. "My _dad_ teaches there; I have to go, and I have friends there—."

"Who don't even take time to write to Harry Potter?" Dobby said.

Harry bit his lip. Dobby was right, not one of his friends had written to Harry any during the summer holidays. Not even Nathaniel, who had promised that he'd try to at least send one. But how did Dobby know this?

"How did you know that I haven't received any letters?" Harry questioned suspiciously.

Dobby slowly held out a wad of letters.

"Dobby is so sorry, Harry Potter, sir," the house-elf said. "Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought his friends didn't like him, he wouldn't go to Hogwarts."

"That wouldn't stop me from going!" Harry yelled, sighing. "Can you give me those, please?"'

Dobby shook his head. "Not until Harry Potter says he won't go to Hogwarts."

Harry sighed, thinking. What if he said that he wouldn't, but then did anyway? After all, if Dobby could prevent Harry's letters from going to him, he could possibly prevent Harry from going on the Hogwarts Express. But, he didn't go on the train. He went by Floo Powder.

Harry sighed again. "I won't go to Hogwarts."

Dobby brightened. "Good! Now go tell Professor Snape what Harry Potter just said."

"You mean—"

"Dobby will be watching Harry Potter when he tells Professor Snape that he is not going to Hogwarts this year," Dobby warned.

Thinking quickly, Harry walked out of his room and downstairs in the dining room where Severus was. He glanced back at him to see Dobby's ears behind the wall.

Exhaling, Harry said, "Severus? I … I'm not going to Hogwarts this year."

Then, Harry turned around to see Dobby, looking very smug, disappear. When he turned back to Severus, the man wore a surprised expression.

"Excuse me?"

Harry grinned. "Nothing."

As Harry went back upstairs to his bedroom, he really did hope that it was just _nothing._

-

A/N: Ehm … Kinda having a writers block with this one. It's not going to have any of the memorable moments, like the flying car, and this was an awfully short chapter, but I'll try to do better next time :-)


	11. Gilderoy Lockhart

**Chapter Two**

Harry went into the dining room the next morning for breakfast, his eyes on the parchment in his hands that told what he would need for his second year at Hogwarts.

"Dad, Is Gilderoy Lockhart our DADA teacher this year?" he questioned as he sat down at the table, setting the parchment next to his plate. "Our books are mostly by him."

Harry's brow furrowed in a frown when Severus didn't reply. Harry looked up to see Severus frozen—not literally, however—in his chair. The teacup was halfway to his lips, but as the Potions master continued to stare at Harry wordlessly, the teacup slowly lowered until it reached the table again.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, worry clearly evident in his voice. "W—what's the matter?"

"Y—you—."

Harry's frown remained on his face as he studied Severus. The man, for all the time that Harry has known him, had never once stuttered. Harry wondered if he was even capable of stuttering—yet here he was.

Severus cleared his throat, regaining his voice. "Harry, what did you just call me?"

"Huh? I called you—" Harry felt embarrassment creep onto his cheeks. "I'm sorry, you don't mind, do you? It's OK if you want me to keep calling you Severus, I will, it just came out …"

Harry stopped babbling and exhaled, wondering what Severus would do … or say.

"No, no, it just took me by surprise," Severus said as he lifted the cup back up to his lips and took a sip. He still looked rather taken aback. "I don't mind if you call me … _dad._"

The word sounded rusty as it slipped off Severus's tongue, and he wasn't quite sure how to react to the fact that Harry thought of him as his father, but he knew in time he'd come to get used to it. He was actually already starting to like the fact that he had a son; adopted or not.

A slow grin started to slip onto Harry's face. "O—OK. Er—so, _is _Gilderoy Lockhart teaching DADA?"

"Yes, he is," Severus replied, not looking too thrilled about that fact. Under his breath he muttered, "Unfortunately."

When Harry caught what Severus had added, he grinned. "I've never read any of his books. D'you think he'll be a good DADA Professor?"

Severus snorted, which surprised Harry. "I highly doubt that, son. Lockhart'll probably be too busy checking his image every two seconds that he'll completely forget about his class."

Harry gave Severus a strange look, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with disbelief. "You called me 'Son'."

Severus smirked. "Well, you're starting to call _me _'Dad', correct? I thought it would be even by calling you 'Son'."

Harry grinned. "OK … sure."

As their breakfast appeared on their plates, Harry couldn't get rid of the warm feeling inside of his stomach that he felt when Severus had called him 'son'. Harry wondered if, when he had called the Potions Master 'dad', if he had the same warm feeling inside his stomach, too.

-

A few days later, Harry and Severus were heading towards Flourish and Blotts for Harry's schoolbooks. Nicholas had tagged along with them after his parents had taken his little sister to get her school supplies, since she was starting Hogwarts this year.

"I never knew you had a sister," Harry said as they neared their destination. "You said you had a brother."

"I had good reason for leaving out my sister!" Nicholas replied firmly. He lowered his gaze and he said, "She's a bug."

Harry just smiled. Then he noticed a large banner that said that Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his autobiography, _Magical Me. _

"Fantastic," Severus muttered sarcastically as he read the sign.

They went into Flourish and Blotts, where as they neared, they saw Gilderoy Lockhart at the front with dozens of large pictures of his face, all smiling and winking.

"Look at him," Nicholas said, throwing a dirty glare towards Lockhart. "So full of himself. I bet, if he could, he'd marry himself."

Nicholas then let out an 'Oomph' as a photographer pushed roughly past him, and instead of Nicholas giving the photographer a glare, the photographer gave Nicholas a glare.

"Hey, watch it, kid," he snapped. "This one's for the _Daily Prophet!_"

Nicholas glared back at him, his lip curling in disgust. "_So? _What's the big deal? I could care _less_."

Several people turned their heads to look, and glower, at Nicholas, since he had said this rather loudly. Even Gilderoy Lockhart looked up to see who said that, but after a quick look at Nicholas, his eyes landed on Harry, who was trying his best not to start laughing at the dirty look on his friends face.

"Dear Merlin," Gilderoy Lockhart said, staring at Harry in amazement. Harry started to become uncomfortable under the gaze. "Is it really Harry Potter?"

Harry didn't say anything, since he had absolutely no idea what to say, but started to inch backwards. Maybe if he was slow at first, Lockhart wouldn't notice him heading towards the door, then he and Nicholas could bolt out of there.

"Come, come!" Lockhart said excitedly, stepping forward. Harry didn't move. He wanted to ask Nicholas if Lockhart knew that Harry was in Slytherin, because for some reason, people thought that all people in Slytherin went bad. But, he wasn't bad; Nicholas wasn't bad. Still, as Lockhart tried to get Harry to go forward, Harry didn't move a muscle.

"Come on," Lockhart said again, this time diving into the crowd and taking Harry's elbow and pulling him forward. The flashes from the camera made Harry temporarily blind, and he was more focused on getting his vision back than listening to Lockhart's speech.

As soon as Lockhart let go and had put his entire works into Harry's arms, Harry couldn't be any more happier than to go back to Severus and Nicholas.

"Here," Severus said, taking the books from Harry. Rather quickly, he added, "Let's go."

Just as they were at the door, Harry heard someone say from behind him, "The famous Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookstore without making the front page."

It was Draco, standing behind them with a smirk on his face. "Honestly, Harry," he continued, "was it as fun as it looked?"

Harry grinned at Draco's sarcasm. "Hardly," he replied.

"So—" Draco stopped as the Weasley's passed by them. "Weasley! I must say I'm surprised to see you in a bookshop. I suppose you're parents are going to be hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron had opened his mouth to say something, but Harry beat him to it.

"Come off it, Draco," he said. "Can't you leave them alone just _once?_"

Draco gave Harry a look. Ron kept opening his mouth and closing it before he finally said, "I can fight my own fights, thank you!" and left.

"Can't _you _not stand up for them just _once?_" Draco said to Harry with a frown.

Harry sighed. If this kept up all year at Hogwarts, well … Harry didn't want to think about it at that moment.

-

Harry had managed to go to Hogwarts without any complications by using the Floo Powder. He had been worried that Dobby may have done something to it to prevent him from landing at Hogwarts, but the house-elf didn't.

He hadn't told Nicholas, Draco (definitely not Draco, considering that Dobby was Draco's house-elf), Severus, Syther or even … Nathaniel.

Harry was still a little mad that Dobby forgot to give him his letters, but he didn't know what he could do about that.

It turned out, at the Sorting, that the Weasley's had a sister that was sorted into Gryffindor, along with the rest of them.

Nicholas barely watched as his own sister went up to the sorting hat. His sister, Isabelle, looked almost exactly like him: dark hair and matching dark eyes.

She was sorted into Slytherin as well, but Nicholas didn't even say hi to her as she walked by down to the end of the table where a few girls she must've befriended sat at.

"You really don't like her, do you?" Harry whispered to Nicholas, who shook his head.

"No, I don't."

But Harry didn't see why Nicholas didn't like his own sister that much.

-

Harry wasn't that excited about Gilderoy Lockhart teaching DADA this year, but he was actually eager to go there to see how Lockhart taught.

It seemed that DADA came too quickly, much to Nicholas's annoyance.

"Why does _Lockhart _have to teach DADA?" Nicholas muttered as he, Harry and Draco made their way to the class. "I bet he didn't even do the things he claims to have done in his books. You know what? I bet that Lockhart is a complete fraud!" Nicholas scowled deeply. "But I bet I shouldn't let my sister hear me say that, huh? She's obsessed with Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Every girl probably is," Harry added. "A lot of girls at Flourish and Blotts were, so there's probably a lot more."

As it turned out, Lockhart started the class with a quiz to test the knowledge of the students to see if they 'really took in what they were reading' when they read his books.

Harry glanced down at the first question. "_1. What is Gildeory Lockhart's favourite color?_"

He exchanged glances with Nicholas, who then started to scribble away at the answers. Harry couldn't help but be surprised that Nicholas could go through it so quickly.

After they did the quiz, he spent the rest of the class going through every question and each answer, then at some questions he went into a very long speech.

"That was an odd class," Nicholas said to Harry and Draco as they stepped out of the classroom. "But I suppose why he spent the rest of the class going through the quiz was because when he had class with the Gryffindors he had let out Cornish Pixies, but couldn't capture them again."

"I found that quiz rubbish," Draco said, scowling at the thought of it. "'_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_'" he glanced at Nicholas. "You seemed to go through it pretty well."

Nicholas snorted. "I wrote down the first thing that came to mind for each question. The first one, what was Lockhart's favourite color, I put: Puke green. Really, who would've known except for someone who actually _reads _those lame books that his favourite color is actually lilac?"

Nicholas shook his head, and Harry laughed.

"What did you put, Harry?" Draco questioned.

"Orange. You?"

"Red. I just guessed on the questions, too."

Harry inwardly sighed, wondering if all Lockhart's classes would be like the one they had just had today. If it was, he didn't know _how _he'd survive this year at Hogwarts.

-

A/N: OK, so here's the thing: I am going away to PEI this weekend, so I might not have the next chapter posted until sometime late next week. Um … I actually didn't know if Lockhart had classes with the Gryffindors _and _Slytherins, so I put it on this story that the Gryffindors had DADA first and then the Slytherins.


	12. On The Wall

**Chapter Three**

A few days later, in the Great Hall at breakfast, Harry glanced sideways at Nicholas before hesitantly saying, "You know, I've never heard you once talk about your sister. Except for the Gilderoy Lockhart thing, I suppose."

"So?" Nicholas took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Does it really matter?"

"Well, no," Harry admitted. "But I just never knew that you had a sister, and, well … I guess I'm just curious. I've never had any siblings before, except Dudley, but he's not my brother—thankfully."

"Isabelle's … Isabelle," Nicholas replied. "A stuck-up, eleven-year-old with an obsession over Gilderoy Lockhart that she got from my Aunt Chasity. She looks exactly like me, except that her hair's loads longer and that she's a girl. That enough information for you? Oh, yeah, and if you're _really _curious, then get this: her middle name's _Beatrice_!"

Harry frowned as Nicholas's voice became more sarcastic with each word he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Nicholas repeated. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

With a cheerful look, Nicholas took another big gulp of pumpkin juice while Harry glanced at Draco, who shrugged his shoulders and looked clueless.

"Oh, but you _know,_" Nicholas started, "now that I think about it, only one teeny thing's wrong. I'm a mistake."

Now Harry was even more confused. "What? How're you a mistake?"

Nicholas shook his head, averting his eyes so that they now were staring at the plate in front of him instead of Harry's.

"I really would rather not to talk about it here," Nicholas responded, his voice growing quieter. "Can you drop it, Harry? Drop it and throw it under the couch, do whatever you want, just drop it."

"OK," said Harry, glancing at Draco once again. "It's … thrown under the couch?" At Nicholas's dirty glare, Harry gave the boy an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I dropped it. Can we at least talk about something else?"

"I don't feel like talking," Nicholas muttered, staring into space. "I don't feel like eating, either."

"OK," Draco finally said, slowly. He leaned over towards Harry and whispered, "I'll bet he's glad that it's Saturday. No classes. I really don't think he could concentrate in any class with the way he's acting today—"

"You know," Nicholas said loudly, "either I have really good hearing or Draco's whispering a little too loudly, because I can hear every word you're saying."

Draco straightened up and gave Nicholas a look. "Well then, you _must _have really good hearing, because _I _am not a loud whisperer."

Nicholas snorted. "Is that a fact? Because, y'know, I think the Gryffindor table even heard you."

Draco sneered. "When you have something going on, you really turn grumpy. Talk to me when you're not so testy, will you?"

"I won't make any promises," Nicholas snapped, standing up and blatantly ignoring Draco. "We'll talk in the common room, OK, Harry?"

Draco kept sneering at Nicholas as he walked out of the Great Hall. "I wonder what's up with him," he finally said.

"I don't know," Harry replied, still feeling befuddled. "D'you think we should go up to the common room to see if he's OK?"

"You can," Draco replied, "but I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, Nicholas and I aren't speaking."

"Come on! We spent all of our Hogwarts year last year not speaking, now you and Nicholas are going to spend _this _year not speaking?"

Draco shrugged, remaining silent. Harry shook his head.

"No, you're not," Harry said for Draco. "Come on, let's go see what Nicholas was going on about."

"Right now?"

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Right now."

-

Harry walked into the common room to find Nicholas sitting in the green chair, his eyes fixed on the fire and a unemotional daze on his face. He barely looked up when Harry said his name.

"What?" Nicholas asked quietly. "You must think I've gone barmy for saying what I did and then leaving. What could the two of you possibly want?"

"To know what's wrong," Harry responded, sitting down. "Why d'you think you're a mistake?"

"Dunno," Nicholas replied flatly. "Wait—yes I do, because I overheard my parents say so. Why else do you think I'm at my grandmothers so much? I see it now."

"Well …" Harry looked around the common room, trying to think of something helpful to say. "Even if you were a mistake, wouldn't your mum and dad still love you?"

"Hardly," Nicholas snorted. "They're so proud of my big brother. They adore my sister." Now, Nicholas's contemptuous tone slowly dissolved into a confused one. "I really don't know what they think of me—other than being a mistake."

Harry bit his lip. All of what Nicholas was saying brought back a lot of unwanted memories of the Dursleys. They had made him feel useless and not wanted—possibly the same as Nicholas felt. So, Harry voiced those thoughts.

"My Muggle relatives, when I used to live with them, made me feel useless and unwanted. Is this how your parents make you feel sometimes?"

Nicholas didn't answer. Instead he said, "They're good people, honestly, and I love them … I dunno …."

"That's why you hate your sister," Draco said for the first time since he and Harry came into the common room. "Isn't it? You said your parents adore your sister, so that's why you hate her so much."

Nicholas turned his head to look at Draco, but his face remained impassive. Though he didn't say yes or no, Harry knew what the answer was.

"You seem to really look up to your brother," Harry stated. "Why don't you hate him, too?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Let's not talk about this anymore, 'kay? I think I'd rather talk to my parents about it, not you guys."

"_Good,_" Draco breathed as Harry and Nicholas stood up. "I thought everything was going to get a little too emotional. I was about to leave."

Nicholas gave Draco a look. "Nobody would've stopped you."

Harry groaned. "Come off it."

"Fine," Nicholas agreed, glancing at Draco. "Sorry. I don't want this year to turn out like last year. Not talking about you and Harry fighting either, but that too, I suppose …"

Harry cleared his throat. He didn't really like talking about what happened last year, since he wasn't OK with the fact that he killed someone, even if that 'someone' _was_ Evangeline Fraus.

"Sorry," Nicholas said, breaking Harry from his thoughts. "I forgot that you don't like to talk about it much."

"S'ok," Harry muttered. "I'm gotta go be somewhere. I'll see you guys later."

-

"I dunno," Harry finished his explanation to Severus. "I just don't think I can ever bring up the subject about … y'know. I think every time, if I did, I'd keep remembering that I killed somebody."

Severus exhaled. "Harry … you killed her out of self-defence. You didn't kill her purposely, did you?"

Harry slowly shook his head. "No I didn't. But …"

"You didn't kill Fraus on purpose," Severus repeated. "You did it out of self-defence."

"I still don't like the fact that I killed someone," Harry muttered.

"Stop thinking about it now. Just relax."

Harry let out a breath and sunk back into the couch, closing his eyes. While his eyes were still shut, he said, "Thanks for taking your time to talk to me, Dad. I think it helped … a bit."

"Any time," said Severus, feeling a bit exhausted over trying so hard to convince Harry that he wasn't a murderer. "Do you have any homework to do?"

"No," Harry responded, sitting up and opening his eyes. "Nicholas made Draco and I do it all yesterday."

"Sensible. Well … I suppose you want to go back to your friends?"

Harry looked at Severus, a new feeling washing him. It sounded like Severus didn't want Harry down here anymore. Did the man get tired of him already? Did he get tired of having Harry around?

Harry stared into Severus's eyes, trying to figure out what the Potions master meant, but Severus could clearly see hurt written in the boys green eyes. But how could he have hurt Harry? He was just considering what Harry wanted, which was something that he'd actually never done … with anybody.

"Sure, yeah," Harry said, nodding his head. "I just wanted to check on Syther … and, um, talk to you—but I'm done. Bye."

Harry started towards the door, but stopped when Severus said something.

"Or, if perhaps, you _wanted _to stay then I suppose there would be no harm in it …?"

The Potions professor sounded a bit confused, like he didn't know what to say.

"You know," Harry said slowly, feeling a little eruption of anger in the bottom of his stomach. "Did you ever think that maybe I enjoy being in your classes? That I like living with you, or that … that I like coming down here on the weekends to talk to you?"

Harry glanced at Severus over his shoulder, continuing. "But—." Harry was cut off as a whispery, malevolent and malicious voice said, "_Come … come to me … let me rip you … let me tear you … let me kill you …._"

It almost sounded like the air was saying it.

Harry turned around to stare at Severus. "What? _What _did you say?"

Severus was giving Harry a strange look as well. "Did you hear it, as well?"

Harry turned around again, not responding to the Potions Master, but listening more closely to see if he could hear the voice again. But, it was gone.

"I really have to go," Harry said, leaving Severus's chambers without another word.

-

Halloween had arrived at Hogwarts in the blink of an eye. The Great Hall was as festive as ever: the usual live bats, very large, carved pumpkins, and there was a rumour going throughout the school that Dumbledore had booked dancing skeletons for amusement.

Harry was chatting with Nicholas about the letter he was going to send his parents when Severus appeared behind Harry, requesting a talk outside of the Great Hall.

"Right now?" Harry asked, looking up. "Can't it wait?"

"You've been ignoring me for the past couple of days now, and there's something … _else _we need to discuss. It won't take long."

Harry knew that the something 'else' was about the strange voice that the both of them heard. Harry didn't even tell Draco or Nicholas about that yet.

So Harry agreed to have a quick conversation with the Potions master.

When they were outside of the Great Hall, neither one spoke. Eventually, however, Severus decided to be the first one to start the conversation.

"I suppose you thought that when I asked if you were going to go back to your friends that I was wanting to get rid of you. Well … you should know that I wasn't. I was simply asking."

"It _did _sound like you were trying to get rid of me," replied Harry. "But … _did _you know that I like spending time with you?"

"No, I didn't—"

Then, out of no where, there it was … the voice. "_Rip … tear … kill …._"

"Wha—?" Harry felt a chill as the voice floated through the air. He turned to look up at Severus. "D—did you hear it this time?"

A worried look crossed the Potion masters' face, but he didn't reply.

"_So hungry … for so long …._"

"There," Harry breathed, listening harder. But the voice was fading away into nothing.

"_Kill … time to kill …._"

Was it going to kill someone? But who?

Harry turned around to look at the Great Hall, expecting to see some teachers coming out because of the voice that had just sounded like it was threatening to kill. The doors remained closed.

"I don't think anybody else can hear it," Severus said in a low voice. "If everybody else could, people would be acting in the same, panicked way as last year when there was the Troll in the dungeon."

"Yeah," Harry said, his voice low, too. He didn't say anything else, since he was trying to hear the voice again, but the voice was getting harder and harder to hear. Who was it going to kill? Would he and Severus be able to stop it from doing just that?

Then, Harry ran. He didn't know whether or not Severus was following him, but _he _had to follow the _voice. _

"_I smell blood … I SMELL BLOOD!_"

Suddenly, he felt arms wrap around his upper body, stopping him from going any farther. Immediately he could tell that it was Severus. He struggled out of the mans grip, but it did no good.

"Let me go!" He screamed. "It's going to kill someone if you don't let me go!"

"Harry, what if that's exactly what it wants? For you to follow it? You could easily be going into a trap."

Harry struggled some more, then finally was free from Severus's grip, and he ran around the corner … to come to a deserted passage.

Harry looked around, trying to see if somebody was there. That's when he saw it on the wall: something was written in a red liquid.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware. _

Harry felt something rise in his throat, and he had a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took a step forward to get a better look at what was hanging off the wall: it was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat.

Harry took numerous steps back, feeling dizzy and warm, like he had a fever. Harry didn't bother to look at Severus, who had appeared at his side. Instead he leaned against the man, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a commotion, like hundreds of feet coming up the stairs. And, there probably was.

"Harry, what—"

It was Nicholas, his face pale and becoming sweaty as he looked at the writing on the wall, and the hanging, immobile cat hanging from the torch bracket.

"'The chamber of secrets has been opened,'" somebody read from the crowd. "'Enemies of the heir, beware.'"

Harry then realized it was Caoimhe Aureus.

"You'll be next, mudbloods," she spat.

Just then, Filch the caretaker arrived on the scene. His eyes scanned the students, then Harry, and then finally landed on the wall … and his cat.

"M—Mrs. Norris," Filch managed out, stepping forward. After a few moments of staring at the immobile cat, his eyes swerved onto Harry again. He opened his mouth to say something, but an old, elderly voice managed to speak first.

"_What _is going on?"

It was Dumbledore. Harry didn't know what to say, so he just stared at the Headmaster. Dumbledore read the message on the wall, then in a quiet voice said, "Severus, will you and Mr. Potter-Snape follow me? Argus, you as well …."

"My office is close," Lockhart immediately offered. "Please, do feel free …."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore replied. He detached the cat from the torch bracket and Lockhart, McGonagall, Severus, Harry and Filch all followed the Headmaster to Lockhart's office; the air behind them filling with whispers from the other students.

"I _know _they had something to do with it," Filch said, glaring at Harry.

Dumbledore paid no attention to Filch, but was muttering something underneath his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris gently with his wand. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Dumbledore announced that Mrs. Norris wasn't dead.

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore explained. "However, I cannot say how."

Filch's teary eyes narrowed in another glare at Harry, but before the caretaker could say anything, Harry tried to explain.

"I nor Professor Snape had anything to do with this," he said. "I—we—I … just came across her. Er—Professor, did you hear anything in the Great Hall?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Except for the chatter amongst the students and staff? Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Harry replied quickly.

"So, _why_ weren't you in the Great Hall, huh?" Filch asked accusingly. "Were you writing that message on the wall? _Killing my Mrs. Norris?_"

Severus was the one who came to Harry's rescue.

"I believe that's my fault," Severus explained coolly. "Not that it's any of your business, but Mr.—Harry—and I had an argument not too long ago. Is it wrong if I wanted to sort things out with my son in private?"

"Of course not, Severus," Dumbledore responded, his face having a warm look to it, even under the circumstances.

"We were walking. Just anywhere, and then we came across … _well._"

"Of course," Dumbledore said again.

"If you don't mind, Headmaster, both Harry and I are quite exhausted—."

"Understandably," Dumbledore said. "Do have a good night, Severus. Harry."

When Harry and Severus were outside of the office, Harry's shoulders sagged.

"Thank you, Dad—"

Severus gave his son a long, meaningful look. "Harry, we need to talk."

-

Severus then started interrogating Harry when they were in the chambers: mostly the questions were, "Why did you run off like that?"

"I—" Harry exhaled. "I keep hearing these voices. Didn't you hear them, too?"

"Yes, I do," Severus replied slowly. "But nobody else can hear them. Harry, do you think that perhaps, since nobody else can hear the voices that we are hearing, that it could be a _snake _talking?"

"What makes you suggest that?"

"Well, we are hearing voices that nobody else can hear. We both speak Parseltongue, a snake language. People who do not speak parseltongue can't understand ... Do you see where I'm getting at?"

"Yeah," Harry replied slowly. "I do ... and it could be. Dad, how about we don't tell anybody about the voices?"

"Why in Merlin's name not?" Severus demanded. "Did the voice not say it was going to _kill_? If, somehow, it _does _just that—"

"I know, but—," Harry paused. "I don't think we should tell anybody. We'd just sound loony."

"_Loony _or not, Harry, this is serious. The Headmaster should at least know."

"At least let's wait a while," Harry said. "I'm just not sure Dumbledore should know yet. I don't even know if I'm going to tell Nicholas and Draco yet. I should, since there's gonna be questions, but ... maybe, just for a while?"

"Fine," Severus finally said, reluctantly. "I won't tell anybody—_just yet. _I don't know why I'm agreeing to such a ridiculous thing—"

"Because you love me?" Harry interrupted.

Severus gave Harry a look. "—_But, _if this gets serious, then I _will _tell the Headmaster. You're not the only person that can hear it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Harry replied happily, surprising not only himself by jumping up and latching his arms around Severus's neck.

Now … all he had to do was _try _to explain things to Nicholas and Draco …

-

A/N: Quite a long chapter; I wasn't expecting that. Anyway, now you see the reason behind Nicholas's hatred for his sister: Jealousy. The reason he doesn't hate his brother, by the way, is because he's older and not around much anymore … and because they were close.

Just thought I'd explain that. R and R!


	13. Rogue Bludgers

**Chapter Four**

Harry picked at his food. Today was the day of the Quidditch match: Slytherin against Gryffindor. He had this queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach; he usually had this feeling before a game.

It was Saturday morning, exactly a week from the writing on the wall and the Petrified Mrs. Norris hanging from the torch bracket. Ever since that day, Harry hadn't heard the voice yet. He actually began to think that the voice was just his imagination at one point, but what about the message written about the chamber of secrets? If it was just his imagination, where did that come from?

"You better eat," Nicholas advised, pushing a bowl of oatmeal in front of Harry. "Game's at eleven."

"You better not start hearing any voices during the game either," Draco put in. "Slytherin _has _to win."

At eleven o'clock, everybody started making their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Harry felt even more nervous than he did before.

"Knock Bailey off his broom, Potter," Flint said to Harry before they went onto the pitch. "Do whatever you can to get the snitch."

Harry saw Aaron Bailey, the Gryffindor Seeker, come onto the pitch, looking very confident in himself. Harry wondered if he himself looked just as confident.

"On my whistle," Madame Hooch said, the whistle poised in front of her lips. "Three … two … one—"

She blew the whistle, and they all rose up into the air on their brooms.

Harry squinted his eyes, roaming them around the pitch in search of the snitch. Aaron Bailey wasn't that far from him, doing the same thing.

Harry froze when a big black bludger skimmed his ear. He glanced backwards, then forward again to see one of the Slytherin beaters, Derrick, knock the bludger towards a Gryffindor to his left. The bludger, however, changed direction halfway towards Fred (or George) Weasley, and came straight back towards Harry, who ducked just in time.

"Hey—Somebody tampered with that bloody bludger!" Flint yelled, sounding furious. The few droplets of water that fell from the sky soon turned harder and more violent, drenching them all.

Harry's eyes widened as the rogue bludger started towards him again, and Harry started to fly backwards, but the bludger followed.

What was going on? Why was that bludger following him? It wasn't supposed to target one person and try to knock them off their broom … or worse.

The rain now had started to fall on his glasses, causing him to see groups of dots all over the lenses.

"Slytherin lead, sixty to zero!" Came Lee Jordan's voice.

Harry wiped away the water with his fingers, leaving long, blurry streaks, but at least he could see better than before.

"Time out!" Flint yelled. "TIME OUT!"

Harry lowered to the ground along with everybody else.

"What the bloody hell is going on with that bludger?" Flint demanded. "Why is it trying to behead you, Potter?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno, but let's get back in the air—we're winning!"

"But we need you alive to get the snitch," said Montague. "We can't win with you dead, Potter."

"But we can't stop now!" Harry insisted. "I'll take care of the rogue bludger and try to get the snitch. Now _let's go!_"

Flint studied Harry a moment longer, then agreed. He went over to Madame Hooch and said they were ready to resume play.

"Good luck, Potter," said Flint, mounting his broom and flying up into the air. Harry followed.

While trying to dodge the bludger that wouldn't quit following him, Harry noticed the snitch: it was beside Aaron Bailey's head. Bailey must've caught the golden snitch out of the corner of his eye, because he reached out to grab it … his fingers brushed against it … Harry felt his heart drop—but the snitch flew away at the last minute before Bailey could close his fingers around it.

Harry's eyes followed the snitch as it went forward, went down … and then Harry started towards it. He could hear Aaron Bailey close behind him, so he put on an extra burst of speed. All he was concentrating on was wrapping his fingers around the golden snitch … to hold in his hand …. Harry reached out, extending his arm as far as it could go. He felt his heart beat quicker as the tip of his fingers touched the snitch, then he inched his fingers forward. They were completely around it—and then the bludger hit.

It hit the middle of his arm. The pain was so unbearable, it brought tears to Harry's eyes.

Harry was so focused on the snitch and the pain in his arm that he forgot to stay on the broom. His heart felt like it was going to burst as he went down, and when he finally hit the muddy ground, he lost his breath for one quick moment.

He felt like screaming out, and he was about to do just that, but instead of a scream emerging from his mouth he said: "I have the snitch."

He held his good, shaky arm up in the air to reveal the snitch that lay in the palm of his hand. Cheers erupted from the Slytherins, and Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips until the stinging pain in his arm reminded him of what happened.

He squirmed on the ground as he held his broken arm up to his chest. All he wished for at that moment was for the pain to go away.

The first person to arrive on the pitch was, unfortunately, Lockhart. Even though the rain had continued to pour down on Harry's glasses, making it almost impossible to see right, he could see Lockhart's wand in his hands.

"What are you going to do with that?" Harry asked as Lockhart was close enough to hear him.

"Fix your arm," Lockhart said, bending down. Harry was becoming anxious.

"No—no that's fine, honestly—just let my dad take me to the hospital wing, I'll be fine—."

"Nonsense," Lockhart said. Without another word he started twirling his wand, then directed it straight to Harry's arm.

Harry opened his mouth, suddenly wanting the strange and unpleasant feeling in his arm to go away. Harry saw Severus looking down at him, a horrified look to his eyes.

Then, the feeling slowly died down. Harry didn't dare look down at his arm to see what had become of it, but then he realized that at some point, he'd have to look at it.

His arm felt weird, almost like some sort of jelly. It also felt … empty.

When he looked down, he didn't notice anything _too _horrid wrong with his arm; nothing, in fact, except that it had a weird look to it. When he held it up, his arm went forward. It drooped all the way down to his elbow.

Harry felt too shocked to speak. It was like … he didn't have any bones left in his arm. To make sure he wasn't dreaming, he held his arm up again and moved it back and forth, but still, when his arm went back, it sagged down to his elbow. When it went forward, it sagged down to his elbow.

"Y—y—y—you didn't heal my arm!" Harry managed out. "You _removed _my _bones _from my _arm!_"

"Ah—" Lockhart was at a loss for words.

"Come on," Severus said, stepping forward to help Harry up. "Let's take you to the hospital wing."

"I have no bones," Harry said in disbelief as Severus helped him to his feet. "T—they're gone. How will I get them back?"

"Surely Poppy can give you something to regrow your bones. Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" Harry repeated. He held up his arm, which flapped around uselessly. "What if she can't grow them back? Instead of being the Boy-Who-Lived, I'll be … The Boy-Who-Doesn't-Have-An-Arm."

"Don't be so dramatic," Severus said. "You have an arm. It's right there. It just lacks bones—_which _Poppy _will _be able to regrow."

-

Even though Poppy Pomfrey wasn't pleased, she said that she would still be able to regrow Harry's bones.

"It'll be a painful experience, but I can do it," she said, showing Harry to a bed.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Severus questioned.

"No, you can go," Harry replied. "But you will come back after?"

"Of course," Severus said, laying a hand on Harry's forehead. Looking as if he wanted to say something more, he didn't, but instead stood up and left.

Harry sighed. They still hadn't come to that part where Severus would be able to show more affection towards Harry, other than hugging. Like just now, for example, Harry was sure that Severus was going to push his bangs backs and kiss Harry's forehead, but the Potions Professor had, at the last minute, decided against it.

Harry, when he was younger, had seen numerous fathers do that with their sons or daughters. Uncles, even Godfathers or close relatives would do it, too, and Harry remembered wondering what it would feel like to have somebody care, love and look out for him.

Harry wondered why he wanted Severus to show his affections for Harry—and when he realized why, he made a little noise. It was because Harry actually considered Severus Snape as his father, and that's what fathers do to their son or daughters—they show their affection for them.

But then, Harry didn't yet feel comfortable saying, "I love you, Dad," to Severus yet, so maybe it just wasn't time yet, no matter how long Harry lived with Severus. Harry went a long time without a father, so the whole thing was still a little new to him.

After Madame Pomfrey returned with the 'Skele-Gro', and Harry had drank the stuff (which did _not _taste good at all), Harry's eyelids fluttered shut as he felt sleep tug at him.

-

Harry woke up to feel something sitting on him; crushing his chest. The hospital wing was pitch-black, and he didn't have his glasses on, so he couldn't see what it was, but as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and his eyes got used to the dark, he saw that a house-elf was sitting on his chest, and it seemed to be waiting for something.

"Harry Potter, sir!"

The voice belonged to, Harry realized, none other than Dobby.

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry hissed, trying to get up. When he couldn't, he realized it was because Dobby was sitting on top of him. "Get off!"

Dobby climbed off of Harry and stood on the floor beside Harry's bed. "Harry Potter, sir," the house-elf repeated, "has lied to Dobby!"

"What?"

"Harry Potter said he wouldn't return to Hogwarts. Yet here Harry Potter is, _in Hogwarts!_"

Harry frowned. "How'd you know that I returned to Hogwarts?"

"Young Master Malfoy had written to Master Malfoy about the Quidditch game Harry Potter was in. Young Master Malfoy said that Harry Potter would no doubt win for Slytherin."

Harry eyed the house-elf. "How did you know what it said?"

This is where Dobby started to look ashamed. "Dobby read it after Master Malfoy set it down and left. Dobby has already punished himself for it, Harry Potter, sir—."

"How did you know," Harry started, "that I would be in Draco's letter?"

"When Dobby was serving Master Malfoy his tea," Dobby explained. "When Dobby was coming up behind Master Malfoy Dobby saw Harry Potter's name. Harry Potter _must _go back home!"

"No, Dobby," Harry said, becoming tired again. "Can you leave or something? My arm hurts and I'm tired."

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter sir, for breaking Harry Potter's arm, but Harry Potter must realize that Dobby only did it so Harry Potter would be _safe!_"

Harry's forehead wrinkled as he frowned. "How did _you_ break my arm?"

That was the only time Dobby had remained quiet.

"Dobby, was that _your _bludger?"

Slowly, Dobby nodded weakly. "Dobby is very sorry, but he was only trying to save Harry Potter by making him go home. Dobby is a very bad house-elf for hurting Harry Potter, but Dobby is sorry!"

Numerous tears leaked out of Dobby's eyes as the house-elf tried to continue.

"Dobby only wants Harry Potter to be safe, because Harry Potter is a _good _wizard! Terrible things are going to happen at Hogwarts, terrible things that have happened once before, and now that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened again, Dobby does not want Harry Potter to get himself hurt by it!"

Dobby's large eyes widened, looking as if they were to become too big for his face. He went over to the bedside table and started to throw his head down on the side. "Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!" the house-elf repeated.

Harry threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, pulling Dobby away from the table.

"What do you mean by the Chamber of Secrets, Dobby?"

"Harry Potter must ask no more questions," Dobby moaned.

"Dobby … just tell me: is there really a Chamber of Secrets?"

Dobby's chin quivered as more tears threatened to fall. "Dobby must go. _Harry Potter must leave too!_"

It was when Dobby had disappeared that Harry heard the footsteps that drew closer to him. Harry quickly scrambled back into the bed, drew the blankets up to his chin, and pretended to be asleep.

He had his eyes shut, so he couldn't see who it was, buy then he heard the person (or people) talk.

"Get Madame Pomfrey."

It Dumbledore, sounding old and grave. Harry opened his eyes a crack to see the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall standing over a body.

"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked, sounding horrified as she approached.

"There's been another attack, this time on a student," Dumbledore replied. "Minerva found the body in the corridor."

"There was a large picture frame beside him," Professor McGonagall said.

"What was the picture of?" Madame Pomfrey asked hesitantly.

"A man and woman. The glass was shattered, though; probably when he dropped it."

"We think he was going to visit Mr. Potter-Snape," Dumbledore added, a sigh following.

Harry felt sick. To visit him? Who could it be? The only two people he was really close to was Draco and Nicholas—but why would they be visiting him in the middle of the night? If it _was _one of them, why couldn't they have waited; would it have been that important?

Harry carefully lifted himself up a few inches with his elbows, trying to get a good look at the face.

It was Nicholas.

"He's Petrified," Madame Pomfrey stated, although sounding a bit uncertain. "Y—you don't think, that perhaps, maybe—"

"Yes I do," Dumbledore sounded with a long sigh. "Perhaps the Chamber of Secrets has been opened once more.

"But—Albus, surely, _who_?"

Once more, a sigh was given by Dumbledore. "Poppy … the question is not _who, _but _how._"

-

Harry barely slept after what he heard the night before. In the morning, Harry was surprised to find bones back in his arm, although it was rather stiff.

When Madame Pomfrey noticed that he was awake, she had bustled over with a breakfast trey.

"When you're finished, you can leave," she instructed Harry, after setting the trey down and bending and stretching his fingers and arm.

Just as Harry started to drink his pumpkin juice, he saw Draco approaching his bed.

"Is Nicholas here with you? He wasn't in bed when I woke up. He got this strange package, too … Seemed really horrified about something. He wouldn't tell me what it was though."

Harry felt sadness wash over him again. "Look in the bed behind you."

Draco turned around to see Nicholas laying on the hospital bed, his eyes open and wide, his body so stiff and frozen, like a statue.

Draco glanced back at Harry. "What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "Dunno. McGonagall and Dumbledore brought him in late last night and said he was found in the corridor, Petrified."

That's when Harry motioned for Draco to come in closer, and then in a whisper, Harry began to tell Draco everything that he heard the night before.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Draco repeated in a low voice. "My father … knows something of it. He won't tell me _anything _about it, really, but I all I know this: It was last opened fifty years ago, before my father's time—and somehow he knows all about it—but when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened, a mudblood _died._"

Harry gave Draco a look at saying the word, and in return, Draco just made a face at Harry.

"What d'you think happened to the person who opened it?"

Draco shrugged. "Probably in Azkaban."

Harry looked away in thought, completely forgetting about the rest of his breakfast in front of him. "Do you think that … since a muggleborn wizard died when the chamber was opened fifty years ago … that it doesn't effect purebloods, but the muggleborns?"

"I dunno," Draco replied. "But if that's the case, I have no idea why Nicholas would be affected by the Chamber of Secrets being opened again, both his parents are purebloods, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Harry replied uncertainly. He set his breakfast trey aside and stood up, walking over to Nicholas's bed.

There, on the night table beside the bed, lay the broken picture. Harry picked it up, studying it.

"I wonder who these people are."

"His parents?" Draco guessed, coming over to look at the picture.

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I saw Nicholas's Mum in Diagon Alley. That's not her."

"Maybe this was what was in the package," Draco mused. "Did I tell you about the package Nicholas got?"

"Yeah, you did," Harry said. "Did he get it yesterday?"

"Dunno. Could've gotten it yesterday, the day before—he pulled the package out from somewhere. He was reading some sort of note when I came in."

Harry looked Nicholas over, only then noticing something in the boys left hand.

"What's that?"

Harry tried prying Nicholas's fingers off the paper, which was very hard to do, but in the end he managed to do it.

The first thing Harry noticed was that it was two and a half pages. Harry turned to the last page and read the signature.

_Your loving parents. _

"Hmm …," Harry said out loud.

Draco scowled. "What does it say?"

"Dunno, I haven't read it yet. Be patient."

Draco let out an impatient sigh, but didn't argue.

Harry put it back to the very first page and started to read it through. The further he read on, the more amazed he became at the letter. Nicholas must've sent his parents a letter about how he felt like a 'mistake', and this was their reply.

"Can I read it now?" Draco asked, still sounding impatient.

"One minute," Harry said, flipping over to the next page. He couldn't believe what Nicholas's parents were telling him in this letter. Was this the reason why Nicholas was coming to Harry last night? To show him this letter?

"Oh wow."

Draco stood behind Harry, trying to read over the boys shoulder. "What? Can you tell me _now _what it says?"

"I see now," Harry started, his voice laced with disbelief, "why Nicholas would've been affected by whatever petrified him, if whatever did it, came out of the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry turned around to look at Draco before continuing.

"Nicholas isn't a pureblood after all."

Draco frowned. "What? That's rubbish. 'Nicholas isn't a pureblood.' Hah! Of _course _he's a pureblood!"

"His parents think otherwise," Harry explained. "It says here that his real parents were both muggleborn. They still went to Hogwarts, but were—"

"A mudblood," Draco interrupted, earning another glare from Harry. "So, you're telling me that … Nicholas was adopted?"

Harry nodded. "It says here"—he raised the letter—"that his real parents were unable to care for him, so they gave him to the Nixon's when Nicholas was just a baby. He was a few weeks old, I think the letter said."

"A muggleborn wizard," Draco started in disbelief, "in Slytherin? I've never heard of it! It's … so …" He shook his head, not able to finish.

"Come on," Harry said, "let's go. We'll come back to visit Nicholas after."

"Nicholas is adopted," Draco said as he followed Harry out of the hospital wing. "And his real parents are _muggleborns_"— (he shot Harry a 'are-you-happy' look)—"Nicholas is in Slytherin. A muggleborn wizard in Slytherin. I've never—"

"Draco!" Harry interrupted the boy, turning his head to glare. "Stop it. Say this to Nicholas when he gets back to normal."

"_I've never heard of it!_" Draco finished under his breath. "Why didn't the hat put him in Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff? Gryffindor, even?"

-

A/N: Wow. One of my longest so far, I think. Oh, and the Gryffindor Seeker, 'Aaron Bailey'? He is not in the Harry Potter series, he is my own character. R and R.


	14. Duelling

A/N: I was just thinking … when it's time for Harry to come across the Chamber of Secrets, what do _you _think Harry should kill the Basilisk with, other than a wand and a ... sword? Any ideas? I'd love to hear them—I might even use one, because I'm at a bit of a loss.

-

**Chapter Five **

A few weeks had passed since the attack on Nicholas. Almost everybody in the school knew about it; that was actually quite obvious. Harry had learned that Severus was making a Mandrake Restorative Draught to cure Mrs. Norris and Nicholas, but they had to wait until the Mandrakes that Professor Sprout had reached their full size.

McGonagall had come around collecting names for who would be staying at Hogwarts for the Winter holidays. Harry had signed his name, and was surprised when Draco had signed his, too.

"Look here, Harry," Draco said as he pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered around the notice board. Harry followed Draco, trying to get a good look at what the parchment hanging there said.

"A duelling club," Draco read out loud. He glanced at Harry over his shoulder, smirking. "Maybe we'll get to duel each other."

"Yeah." Suddenly, Harry felt his happy attitude disappear as he thought about Nicholas. "It's too bad that Nicholas can't be there with us during the duelling club. He'd of liked it."

"I know, but, what can we do? Cheer up, it'll be fun. Especially when we get to duel each other," Draco said. Harry noticed that whenever the subject of Nicholas came up, Draco would say anything to brush it off. Harry started to wonder if it was because they had found out that Nicholas was muggle-born.

"When does it start?" Harry asked, trying to rouse up his happy attitude again.

"Well …," Draco peered at the parchment again. "Says here that the first meeting's tonight, at eight o'clock. I'm going, are you?"

"Sure," Harry said, nodding. "Is it taking place in the Great Hall?"

Draco nodded. "Starts at eight, in the Great Hall."

-

When eight o'clock that night rolled around, Harry and Draco made their way to the Great Hall, which, when they arrived, they noticed that all the tables had been removed and that a long stage had appeared by the wall.

Harry, earlier that day, had found out by Severus that he was going to be Lockhart's 'assistant' that night. He was a bit excited to learn that Severus and Lockhart would be demonstrating—Harry knew that Severus was skilled when it came to duelling.

When Lockhart appeared on the golden stage, followed by Severus, Harry tried not to picture Lockhart flying through the air and landing on his butt—it'd just make him start laughing out loud.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said. "He tells me he knows a bit of duelling and has sportingly agreed to help me with the demonstration. But, never fear, you'll have your Potions Master back when I'm through with him!"

As Severus and Lockhart faced each other, Harry was becoming more eager to see what would happen. He studied the Potions Master as he jerked his head instead of bowing, like Lockhart and done, and then both raised their wands. Harry actually found the look on Severus's face quite intimidating; Harry wondered if Lockhart felt the same. He probably didn't, since he was smiling so widely, and the look on his face didn't show any sign of intimidation.

Harry tuned in to the rest of what Lockhart was saying.

"On the count of three, Professor Snape and I will cast our spells. Neither of us intending to kill, of course."

As Lockhart counted down, and the word 'three' finally rolling off his tongue, both had swung their wands forward, but Severus was the first to say, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Lockhart was raised a bit into the air and was flown backwards. He flew into the wall, then slid down to the floor. The Slytherins started to cheer.

"E—excellent idea to show them that Disarming Charm, Professor Snape," Lockhart started, standing to his feet. He was still a bit wobbly. "Ah … my wand—thank you Ms. Brown! Now, if you don't mind me saying so, it was quite apparent that you were going to do that, and, if I had wanted to stop you it would've been only too easy. Still, I thought it would've been informative—"

Lockhart then cleared his throat, finally noticing Severus's dark look, decided to move on.

"Well, enough demonstrating, eh? Professor Snape and I'll come around and put you into pairs …"

Harry ended up with Draco.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart instructed. He had made his way back up onto the platform again. "And bow."

Harry tilted his head to Draco, who did the same, then with a smirk said, "Don't think I'll go easy on you."

"Wands at the ready! Now, when I count to three, you'll cast your Disarm Charm. Nothing else, we don't want any mishaps. All right, ready? One … Two … Thr—"

Draco had already begun when Lockhart managed to get part of 'three' out of his mouth. Harry took a few steps backwards, shaking his head, as if trying to clear it. He wasn't expecting that, but he also wasn't expecting himself point his wand at Draco and yell, "_Rictusempra!_"

It was the first thing that had came to mind.

Draco was now doubling over in a fit of laughter. He sunk to the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

Harry watched as Draco started rolling on the ground. Then, with a shaky hand, Draco pointed his wand at Harry and yelled, "_Furnunculus_!"

Before Draco even managed to get it out of his mouth, Harry had already ducked. The spell flew past Harry's head and hit the wall.

"I said _disarm only!_" Lockhart shouted. Severus had shouted, "_Finite Incantatem!_" shortly afterwards, and Draco had stopped laughing. The boy stood himself up on shaky feet, steadying himself.

"_Just what _do you think you two are doing?" Severus demanded as he pulled Harry and Draco aside. "Didn't you hear '_disarm only'_?"

"Sorry," Harry said, pocketing his wand. "I didn't realize Draco was going to do that."

"Oh, don't sound so accusing," Draco said. "What did I do? I said I wasn't going to go easy on you."

Harry shook his head. "Just never mind. I'm gonna go back to the dorm."

-

The next morning, Harry saw that Hogwarts had been covered with the snow from last night.

Harry got up and dressed, ready to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco must've already been down there, because his bed was empty. He hadn't spoken to Draco the night before, so he knew that he'd have to at least say something at breakfast.

The only thing that were exchanged between the two was a brief 'hi', and the didn't speak much until lunch rolled around. That's when Draco decided to stop being monosyllabic, and form a sentence.

"Care to tell me why you've been ignoring me?" Draco asked as Harry sat down. "You're still not mad about the duelling club, are you?"

"Actually I am," Harry replied. "Why did you do that, anyway? Lockhart said _disarm._"

"Well sorry!" Draco exclaimed, frowning. "Why can't you just get over it?"

Harry abruptly stood up, surprising several people around him.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked irritably.

"I'm going to get ready for Herbology."

Harry turned around, walking towards the Great Hall doors. He stopped when Draco called out to him again.

"It's cancelled because of the blizzard that started. So don't bother."

"Fine." Harry tried not to raise his voice too loud; people had already started to stare at the two, watching the scene that developed in front of them. "I'll just go back to the common room."

Harry walked out of the Great Hall before Draco could say anything to stop him again. As he walked through the corridor, a little ways behind him he could hear footsteps, and then a voice.

"Harry! Wait up!" Draco called, becoming more annoyed when Harry kept walking. "That's not the way to the common room!"

"Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I'm going to see Nicholas," Harry threw over his shoulder.

"Without having lunch first? You barely had any breakfast to begin with."

"And you've been keeping track?" Harry questioned, turning around. "Lunch is over anyways. People who aren't in Herbology are in their classes."

"Whatever. It's not my fault if you stop eating food altogether," Draco said angrily.

Harry turned around again, and was so blinded with anger, he nearly tripped over something on the ground.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff.

Harry froze, staring at their identical shocked faces, their wide eyes that reflected some sort of horror when Draco caught up with him.

"It's the Gryffindor ghost," Draco pointed out unnecessarily. "Isn't it?" he added after a moment. "He's all black and smoky."

"Draco," Harry said after a while, his voice not working properly. "G—go get Dumbledore."

Draco getting Dumbledore actually wasn't necessary, since Peeves arrived on the scene.

"Ooh, what—," Peeves didn't say anything further as he caught sight of the ghost and the boy laying on the ground. "RUN! RUN! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO GHOST OR MORTAL IS SAFE INSIDE HOGWARTS! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

Suddenly, pandemonium struck. Several doors opened at once and people flooded out of them. Teachers shouted for the students to be quiet, and nobody listened, but soon McGonagall arrived, conjuring a loud, echoing bang. Everybody at once began to quiet.

"Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter-Snape," McGonagall said in a curt manner. "Follow me."

Draco and Harry exchanged glances before following McGonagall through the corridor and around a corner. Where would she take them? To her office? To Dumbledore's?

It turned out to be the latter. They stopped at the gargoyle, McGonagall gave the password ("Sherbert lemon!") and the gargoyle jumped back, revealing a spiral staircase leading to where Dumbledore lived.

-

"Wait here," McGonagall instructed to the boys, leaving to find Dumbledore. Draco took a seat, looking at Dumbledore's empty desk. Harry went over to Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix.

"Hey, Fawkes," Harry said, stroking the phoenix.

"You know that bird?" Draco questioned, looking at Fawkes, and then at Harry.

"It's a Phoenix," Harry responded. "Yeah, I do."

Harry dropped his hand down to his side and went over to Dumbledore's desk, when, Harry caught the sight of fire from the corner of his eye.

"What did you do?" Draco yelled anxiously, jumping up from the chair. "You put the bird on fire!"

"No—Draco," Harry tried to explain what happened to phoenixes when Draco went over to the phoenix, looking around the room wildly, probably looking for something to put the fire out with. He had to resort to blowing the flames out, which didn't quite work.

"You're not going to get the flames to go out by blowing them," Harry said calmly. "Phoenixes burst into flames when they're ready to die." When the flames stopped, all was left was a pile of ashes. "A phoenix is reborn from their ashes."

With another hesitant look at the pile of ashes, Draco walked back over to the chair and sat down, just as Dumbledore came through his office door.

"Ah, I see this was Fawkes' Burning Day," Dumbledore said. Something started to move underneath the ashes, and, as Harry watched, a tiny, wrinkled bird popped up from underneath it. It was Fawkes.

"So," Dumbledore started, sitting in his chair in front of Draco. "I've just been informed that there has been another attack. On a student _and _a ghost, and that you two were the first on the scene."

"Yes," Harry replied hesitantly, "but we didn't do it, sir. I was going to see Nicholas in the hospital wing because Herbology was cancelled, and Draco was following me and being a nuisance."

"No, I wasn't," Draco objected, glaring at Harry. He folded his arms over his chest. "_He's _just mad about the duelling thing."

Dumbledore lay both his hands on the desk, leaning forward a bit as he studied them through his glasses.

"I know you two did not cause any of this. But … is there anything you two would like to tell me?"

Draco glanced up at Harry, who looked Dumbledore in the eye and shook his head. "No, sir."

-

"Why didn't you tell him about the voices you were hearing?" Draco asked as he and Harry they walked halls after being let out of Dumbledore's office.

"Because."

"'Because' isn't an answer. Why didn't you tell him?"

"Keep your voice down," Harry said, frowning. "I didn't tell him because … well … hearing voices isn't a good sign, is it? Even in the wizarding world."

"So?" said Draco.

Harry shook his head. "Never mind, I don't think you'd understand. Are you going to come with me to see Nicholas or not?"

"I'll choose the latter, thanks," Draco said. "See you later."

Harry didn't say anything as Draco made his way to the Slytherin common room, whilst Harry made his way to the hospital wing. When he entered and approached his friends bed, he noticed there was already somebody else there, reading something on a piece of parchment. Harry watched as her eyes grew wide with every word she read.

"Isabelle?" Harry spoke, causing the girl to jump. She looked up, her face pale, and stood.

"I—I was just leaving," Isabelle stuttered, thrusting the parchment back into Nicholas's cold, frozen hand. "I have classes."

"OK."

Harry watched as Nicholas's sister quickly walked away from the bed and out of the doors. No wonder the girl was so pale and shaky, and she had a mixture of confusion and amazement on her face. She had just read the letter about Nicholas being adopted.

Harry went over and sat down on the same spot Isabelle had been sitting. Nicholas looked the same as he did before—but then, how could he change? He was frozen like a statue.

Even though Harry knew that he wasn't the one who did this to Nicholas, he still felt guilty.

-

Christmas come and gone for Harry. It felt empty without Nicholas there to enjoy it as well, but he and Draco were at least on better terms with each other than they had been before.

The snow that had been resting on the ground outside was soon starting to melt, a sign that winter was nearing its end. Harry hadn't heard anymore of the voices, either. That was kind of unnerving for Harry, but at least there hadn't been any other attacks, either.

The only thing Harry wanted answered was: just what exactly was going on?

-

A/N: Thanks so very much for your reviews so far, keep it up! By the way ... anybody have a list of any good Severus-adopts-Harry or Severitus stories I can check out? All the ones I'm waiting for to update, well, aren't getting updated ... and I feel like reading some good stories along those lines. Thanks.


	15. Attacks

**Chapter Six**

Several weeks later, Harry received a surprising visit from Nicholas's sister in the corridor as he was making his way down to Severus's chambers for his weekly weekend visit.

"I just wanted to ask you, since you're dad is the Potions Professor and all, and he's most likely the one making the Potion to get Nicholas and the rest of them better … but, erm … I just wanted to know: do you, by any chance, know if it's ready?"

Isabelle stood in front of Harry with an uncertain expression on her face. She was clutching a black book, and was twirling it around in her fingers.

"Sorry, but I haven't heard anything about it," Harry replied. "So … I don't think so."

Harry hoisted his rucksack over his shoulder.

"OK. I just … wanted to know … because … I just want Nicholas to get better," Isabelle said, looking down. She glanced back up at Harry, noticing what was slung over his shoulder. "Erm … what's that?"

Harry followed the girls gaze. "Oh, it has my homework and stuff in it. I didn't feel like carrying it down to, uh, Professor Snape's, so I put it in this."

Isabelle bit her lip, then suddenly flew forward, enveloping Harry in an awkward hug. When she let go and took a few steps back, Harry noticed that she didn't have the book in her hands anymore.

"Sorry. I better go down to the hospital wing and see Nicholas again," Isabelle replied hastily, turning the other way and walking quickly down the corridor. Harry wanted to tell her that the hospital wing was the other way, but decided against it. Sooner or later she'd realize that.

-

_You won't find anybody else here except for me, _Syther said when Harry found the snake resting on the couch. _Snape went … somewhere. His classroom, I think. _

"Did he tell you that?" Harry asked, sitting down beside Syther. He took his rucksack off his back and set it on his lap.

_Yep. Told me to tell you he'd be back soon, _the snake responded. _Why do you have that thing open? Any of the contents could've fell out. _

"I forgot to close it."

Harry pulled out the homework he needed to complete, and a quill. All he needed was some ink, since he forgot to put that in. Harry found that lately, homework never got done before the weekend anymore without Nicholas there to remind him and Draco.

Harry then spotted a small black book in the bag. Where did that come from? He didn't put that there. Harry pulled the book out and studied it, surprised to find that it looked like the same book Isabelle had.

Harry flipped it open, but there was no writing in it. There was just blank pages. Could Isabelle have dropped it when she hugged Harry? Or, for some reason, did she put it in his bag on purpose?

_What is it? _

"It looks like a diary," Harry replied. "The cover looks really old." Harry stared at the blank page, then put it back to the front to see if anything had been written there.

All that was written on the very first page was '_T. M. Riddle'_. The ink looked as old as the book, and the ink was smudging, so that could've been a sign that the signature was as old as the book.

_Well? _The snake demanded abruptly, surprising Harry. _You're not going to stare at it all day, are you? Do something with it. Write in it or something; see what it does. _

"What it does?" Harry repeated, frowning. "It's a book, Syther."

_How do _you _know? You've never tried to see if it was something else. _

Harry shook his head, standing up. Even if he was to 'try it out', he needed ink first. He went into Severus's room to find a bottle of black ink on the dresser.

Harry went back to the couch and sat down, putting the book on his lap. "I shouldn't write anything in it," Harry finally said, even though his quill was already in his hand. "It's not mine."

_I don't see the problem, _Syther said. _Obviously the owner didn't want it anymore, or they wouldn't of put it in your bag. _

"It probably fell."

_Right, _Syther responded, sounding unconvinced. _Oh well, do what you want. _

Harry took several more seconds to stare at the book, before deciding that he'd only write a sentence. He dipped his quill in the ink and leaned forward, his hand poised above the book. He slowly lowered the quill, then wrote, "Hello. My name is Harry Potter."

The ink stayed on the page, doing nothing. Harry turned sideways and gave Syther a look.

"What did I tell you? It's just a diary."

_Oh? Then why is it doing _that?

Harry looked back at the diary to find his sentence slowly fading into the page. Then, it reappeared, except … it came back as something Harry never written.

"_Hello, Harry Potter. My name's Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?_"

Harry was too shocked to write a response. He re-read what was written twice, and then by that time the ink had started to disappear just like his had done.

_Well? Write back! _Syther instructed.

"I," Harry started, reading what he wrote in a loud whisper, "found this … in my backpack."

"_What was it doing there?" _came Tom Riddle's reply. Harry hesitated a second before writing back.

"Somebody dropped it in there," Harry wrote.

"_They probably wanted to get rid of it,_" came the reply.

Harry frowned at the response before quickly writing, "Why would they want to do that?"

"_This diary holds memories of very terrible things … things which were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._"

Harry tilted his head to the side as he read what Tom Riddle wrote. Could he mean something that happened at Hogwarts _fifty years ago?_

"I am at Hogwarts now. How long ago did whatever happen … happen?"

As Harry waited, he glanced up to see if Severus had come back yet. Thankfully, he didn't. Harry debated whether or not he'd tell Severus about this diary, and then decided against it. He didn't even think he was going to tell Draco about it.

"_About fifty years ago._"

Hesitantly, Harry wrote, "Does this have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets?"

He impatiently waited for the reply, which was a simple 'yes'. Quickly Harry asked Tom Riddle if he knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets.

"_Of course I do,_" the explanation started. "_In my day, they told us that it was only a legend, that it didn't exist. This, however, was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened, and the monster attacked several students. It ended up killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. The Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing could happen at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again; the monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned._"

"Who did it?" Harry quickly wrote back, glancing up again to see if Severus came back. He did not.

"_I can show you, if you like. I can take you inside my memory, of the night when I caught him._"

Harry debated whether or not he should. Finally, he wrote "OK" on the page, waiting to see what would happen. How could he see what happened that night?

He didn't have long to wonder, because as the pages began to blow as if caught in a strong wind, Harry felt himself being pulled into the book.

-

Harry was now standing in what seemed to be Dumbledore's office. Except, it wasn't Dumbledore who sat behind his desk.

"E—excuse me?" Harry said tentatively to the older wizard, taking a step forward. The wizard didn't even look up; he just kept his head down, reading something written on parchment.

Harry tried again, but nothing. Glancing around, Harry noticed that there was no Fawkes. Could this be Hogwarts fifty years ago? If so, then this must've been the Headmaster at that time. What did Riddle say his name was? Professor Dipper? Dipping? Dippet?

The third sounded about right, so Harry tried again, this time louder, in case the Headmaster might've been deaf.

"Er—Professor Dippet?"

Nothing.

Then, there was a knock on the door, and with a sigh, the older man said, "Enter."

A young boy, looking about fifteen or sixteen, stepped in. He had jet black hair, much like Harry, except this boy was a lot taller. A Prefect badge glinted on the boys chest.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" the boy spoke.

"Yes, yes. Take a seat, Riddle. I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

Riddle sat down.

Harry listened to their conversation with great interest. It turned out that Riddle wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, but Professor Dippet wouldn't allow it.

At last, Riddle left the Headmasters office. Harry quickly followed him. He was surprised when Riddle was going down the steps to the dungeons, where Severus taught Potions.

Harry continued to follow Riddle, and Harry could sense that they were finally at their destination, because almost stealthily, Riddle carefully leaned against the wall, listening to a low, urgent voice that was whispering.

"C'mon … in the box … gotta get yeh outta 'ere …."

Harry remained quiet, listening intently to the voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

Then, Riddle stood up straighter, walking around the corner. "Rubeus."

Harry bit his lip; the name sounded familiar, too. Harry went over beside Riddle to see who the boy was talking too.

It was Hagrid.

Only, this Hagrid was much younger.

Slamming the door shut, Hagrid whirled around, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"What're yeh doin' down 'ere, Tom?"

Riddle stepped forward. "I'm sorry, Rubeus. I'm going to have to turn you in. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop.  
"I don't think you meant to kill anyone, Rubeus—." Riddle was cut off by Hagrid.

"It never killed no one!"

Riddle remained calm as he spoke. "Move aside, Rubeus. The dead girl's parents are going to be here tomorrow—the least we can do is make sure that the thing that killed her is dead—."

"It wasn't him!" Hagrid insisted, blocking the door. "He'd never!"

But Riddle had already drew his wand, and a huge blast of light lit the corridor. The door behind Hagrid flew open, and a large creature with a tangle of long, hairy legs was revealed.

It was a very, very large spider.

This was the creature that had attacked those three students, one including Nicholas? If it was an abnormally large spider saying those threats that both he and Severus heard, wouldn't everybody else be hearing it, too?

Harry felt a jerk, and as if large hands were tugging at him, he started to move backwards and couldn't stop. The scene in front of him, with Hagrid desperately trying to save his spider, slowly started to get tinier and tinier until Harry could only see darkness, and then, when he opened his eyes, he was back in Severus's chambers.

Harry wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. Quickly, he started to gather all of his homework and Tom Riddle's diary together, hastily stuffing them into his bag when Severus came into the room.

Harry put on a grin, then hoisted his rucksack back onto his shoulder.

"I have to go," Harry said before Severus could say anything. "Um, before I leave, did you hear anything Syther said, Dad?"

"No, I made sure to block him out before I went to the classroom. He talks worse than Jacobs—Harry, are you all right? You're sweating."

"I'm fine," Harry said, walking past Severus. "Just not feeling too good." With his mind, he directed, "_Don't tell Severus about the diary,_" to Syther.

Harry turned around to look at Severus's concerned expression.

"Don't worry," he added. "I'm sure that after I take a rest I'll be better. You can even check in on me later if you feel like it."

Then, without another word, Harry left.

-

Nearly four months had passed since the attacks, and Harry had no longer heard the disembodied voice.

During the Easter holidays, all second years were to think about their subjects for their third year.

"What's the subject you're picking?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "Dunno. You?"

Harry shook his head, saying the same thing.

It was a few days later when Draco found Harry walking in the corridor towards the Slytherin common room.

"Follow me," Draco said suddenly, and without another word quickly took lead toward the common room. "Look what happened!"

When Harry and Draco finally reached the dorm, Harry's mouth fell open in shock. Everything of Harry's had been strewn over the room. It looked as if somebody had been looking for something.

Harry started walking around, studying everything to see if it had been missing.

"So, is everything there?" Draco questioned, as if reading Harry's thoughts. Harry didn't reply immediately. As he continued to walk around the room and investigate, he realized that one thing was missing: Tom Riddle's diary.

"Yeah," Harry lied. He still hadn't told Draco about the diary. "Everything is here."

-

The next day, Harry woke up feeling tired, like he hadn't slept at all. The idea that somebody had come into the dorm and started looking through Harry's stuff was still on Harry's mind.

As he and Draco made their way through the corridor to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry heard the voice again. He froze as the disembodied voice said, "_Kill this time … let me rip … tear …._"

Draco, only then noticing that Harry wasn't moving, turned around. "What are you doing?"

"What would Nicholas do?" Harry said out loud. Draco gave Harry a funny look, walking back to Harry.

"What are you talking about?"

"If Nicholas was here now," Harry started explaining, "what would he do if I was hearing a voice that nobody else could?"

He purposely left out the fact that Severus was hearing them too.

Draco snorted. "Well, that's not a tough question. He'd go to the library to research whatever his big brain came up with as an answer to what the voice could belong to."

A slow grin formed on Harry's face. "Exactly. Come on."

Harry quickly started walking again, this time towards the library.

"Oh, you're not going to the library, are you?" Draco groaned as he followed Harry. "What are you going to look up? 'Voices That Only Harry Potter Can Hear?'"

"No," Harry said over his shoulder. He didn't bother to explain after that, but continued to walk to the library. When they entered, Harry immediately went over to one of the bookshelves.

"Want to share what you're looking for _now?_" Draco asked.

"I'm the only one, out of everybody, that's hearing a voice, right?" Harry whispered, purposely leaving Severus out again. Draco nodded, so Harry continued. "And I _am _a Parselmouth, right? What if the voice is coming from a _snake?_"

_Meaning that Hagrid's pet spider wasn't the one killing fifty years ago, and most likely wouldn't now, _Harry added silently.

"That could explain it," Draco said, sounding thoughtful. "So … what are you going to look for?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Something … something must be in this library. Maybe, something about a snake that kills, and can somehow Petrify people and … well, ghosts?"

"There's thousands of books. It could be in any one of them."

Harry gave Draco a humourless grin. "Then we better start looking."

-

So far, there was nothing in any of the books Harry and Draco looked through about a snake that liked to prey on muggle-born students and Petrify them.

Suddenly, Harry heard Draco say something from the other side of the bookshelf.

"Oh, you've _got _to be kidding me!"

Harry walked around to where Draco was to see what was going on. It was only Isabelle, with a book in her hand, with a Gryffindor girl beside her, a book in her hands, as well.

Harry tried not to grin as Draco walked away, looking revolted at the sight.

"Hi, Isabelle," Harry greeted.

"Harry," Isabelle said curtly. She glanced at the Gryffindor girl, who was suddenly looking very nervous and uncomfortable. "This is Hermione Granger."

"I know," Harry said, nodding to the girl. "Hi."

Hermione bit her lip, standing up. She said something to Isabelle, and then walked away.

"Isabelle Nixon." Draco appeared beside Harry, looking disgusted. "How could you?"

Isabelle stood, making a face at Draco. "What's the matter with Hermione?"

"What's the matter?" Draco repeated, sounding amazed. "She's a M—" Draco let out an impatient sigh as Harry gave Draco a long, hard glare. "She's _muggle-born _and a _Gryffindor!_ You are in _Slytherin! _What does that say?"

"It says that I don't care what house I'm in, or what house Hermione Granger's in, and that I can make friends with whoever I want to make friends with!"

"You're disgracing the Slytherin name." Draco shook his head, still looking revolted. "All three of you!"

Harry glanced at Draco. "All _three _of us?"

"_Yes,_" Draco responded firmly. "_You, _Isabelle and Nicholas. What was the hat thinking when it put you three in Slytherin? You obviously belong in Gryffindor."

"Come off it, Draco," Harry said. "Let's continue looking for the book."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Isabelle stiffen.

"Book?" she questioned hesitantly. "What one?"

"Um …," Harry quickly tried to think of something. "A book about snakes."

"Snakes?"

Harry nodded. "I'm fascinated by them."

"Oh." It seemed to work for Isabelle. "I better go. Hey, er … did you hear about what happened to Dumbledore and that Hagrid?" Harry slowly nodded, saying, "Practically everybody knows." While Draco gave them both a funny look.

"What happened?"

"Dumbledore got suspended," said the first year. "Hagrid got sent to Azkaban."

"Oh, yeah," Draco muttered, nodding his head. "About time, too." Harry pretended not to hear him.

"I better go," Isabelle said.

Quickly, Isabelle walked out of the library. Harry went back to looking for the book, while Draco went on about Isabelle making friends with Hermione Granger, completely forgetting about the Dumbledore and Hagrid situation.

"I mean, it's so ridiculous," Draco continued on, oblivious to the fact that Harry was tuning him out. "A Slytherin making friends with a Gryffindor. Isn't that pathetic? Nixon should've just _not _bothered. Granger had no friends in the first place, it should've stayed that way. What, was she so desperate for a friend that she resorted to a Slytherin? And _Nixon_—."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, his eyes skimming a page in the book he was holding. "I think I found something."

"What?"

"Listen," Harry started, before reading the passage from the book. "'Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.'"

Harry stopped reading, thinking everything through. So, could it be a Basilisk attacking the students?

"Yes," Harry said out loud, his voice thick with realization. "It says here that, 'All who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death.' But Nicholas and Justin Finch-Fletchley aren't dead—they're Petrified. Meaning Nicholas must've saw the reflection of the Basilisk in the glass of the picture frame he had. Justin Finch-Fletchley … well, he must've saw it through the Gryffindor ghost, and the ghost got the full impact, but since he's already dead, he can't die again!"

"It's a bit confusing," Draco said, "but I think I get it. So, now that you've figured it out, let's go. I'm hungry."

Harry frowned at Draco. "That's it? I get all this and all you have to say in return is, 'I'm hungry, let's eat?'"

"I didn't say it like _that,_" Draco said with an exasperated sigh. "But you've figured it out! Yay for you! What do you plan to do?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know."

Suddenly, Harry thought of something else. Looking at Draco, he said, "but if it really is that, how am I hearing the snake speak? Could it be coming from the walls or something?"

Draco gave Harry a look. "How could you hear it from the walls? It'd have to be stuck in the wall or something, or going through the pipes from the bathroom, or something whacky like that."

"Pipes from the bathroom," Harry mused out loud. "That's a good point. Maybe the snake is travelling through the pipes."

"Well, if it's a snake," Draco said, "then there must be someone else that's a Parselmouth, to be able to control it. I just don't see how a snake can do all this without somebody controlling it."

Harry nodded. "True."

"Then there must be somebody else besides you that's a Parselmouth. Do you know? Of anybody else that speaks to snakes, that is?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he lied.

Draco shook his head, leaning against the bookshelf. "Me neither." Draco shrugged. "I don't know. So, can we go to the Great Hall now? I'm getting very bored."

"All right." Harry, glancing around furtively, Harry ripped that page out of the book, then slid it the book back in the shelf. "First let's go back to the common room to put this away."

As they went to the common room, a flushed Isabelle came up to them.

"You'll never believe what Hermione told me," she started breathlessly, ignoring Draco's disapproving noise. "Another student as been attacked."

"Who?" Harry said without any hesitation. "How does she know?"

"It was a Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match today," Isabelle explained. "And it was cancelled because of it. Anyway, the person that was attacked was Colin Creevey, a first year in Gryffindor."

Harry bit his lip. "Did he have anything with him?"

Isabelle shook her head. "Except for his camera. He was going to take pictures of the match."

"Thanks." Harry continued walking towards the common room, with Draco beside him.

"I could care less," Draco muttered under his breath.

-

A while later, after Harry put the piece of paper about the Basilisk safely away, he and Draco sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Somehow ... somehow I have to hear what happened to that Colin Creevey. How?" Harry was saying this more to himself than to Draco, who shrugged his shoulders and looked around the room, a bored look on his face.

Just then, Harry stood up and got his invisibility cloak out.

"What're you going to do with that?" Draco asked, watching as Harry took the cloak out of his trunk.

"Well, I'm going to go to the staff room to see if what the teachers think of these attacks. You can come with me if you want."

"I think I'll pass," Draco replied. "I've had enough excitement today."

Harry left Draco in the common room, then went down to the staff room and hid in the closet. He left the door to the closet open a crack so he could see a bit of what was going on, as well as hear. A bunch of the teachers were already starting to pile into the room.

"There has been another attack," McGonagall stated grimly after everyone had quieted down. "And not long ago was a student taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

"The same student?" Professor Flitwick asked hesitantly, his voice tentative.

"No," came the reply. "The student that was attacked, as you know, was Colin Creevey. The student that was taken was Isabelle Nixon."

Harry's eyes landed on Severus as he asked, "How can you be sure?"

"There was another message written on the wall, beneath the first one," McGonagall responded. "It said, '_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'_"

The first thought that ran into Harry's mind was: _But I was just talking to her. _Then, after that, Harry wondered why it was Isabelle. _Why was Isabelle the one taken? _

Harry felt gobsmacked. He started to think what Nicholas would do if he found out that his sister had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and he knew, even though Nicholas claimed that he hated his sister, Harry knew he would truly be horrified.

-

A/N: I already have the next few chapters ready but I need to hear from you guys before I post!


	16. Chamber of Secrets

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to FireChildSlytherin5, who gave me the brilliant idea coming up about the Basilisk versus Harry thing!

-

**Chapter Seven **

After getting over the shock that Isabelle had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry began to listen to the rest of what McGonagall and the others were talking about.

"This is the end of Hogwarts," McGonagall said. "Students will return home tomorrow. Dumbledore always said …."

At that very moment, Lockhart walked in.

"Sorry—dozed off for a bit—have a missed anything?"

The smirk on Severus's face told Harry that he was up to something, and it just confirmed those suspicions when the Potions Master said, "Lockhart, just the man. A girl has been taken by the monster. Held in the Chamber itself. I'd say your moment has come at last."

Lockhart grew pale.

"Right—weren't you just saying just last night that you knew exactly where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was, and that you knew what was inside of it?" Professor Sprout said.

"I—I really don't recall," Lockhart stuttered.

"Of course you do," Severus said, the smirk still in place. "I clearly remember you saying that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first."

Lockhart gazed around at his colleagues, clearly at a loss.

"We'll leave it to you then, Gilderoy," McGonagall said. "Tonight would be an excellent time to do it, wouldn't you say so? A free rein at last."

"V—very well," Lockhart said, a desperate look to his eyes. "If anybody needs me, I—I'll be in my office, preparing …."

As the teachers started to leave, one by one, Harry followed. He knew that Lockhart had no clue where the Chamber of Secrets was, or what was inside of it. As he went back to the common room, he realized that he and Draco (or maybe just him) should figure out where the Chamber was and then tell Lockhart.

-

Draco sat on the edge of Harry's bed as Harry began pacing the room. Only he and Draco were the ones in the dorm, which was good, so they'd be able to talk openly.

"_If _the Basilisk is travelling through pipes," Harry said out loud, continuing to pace. "Pipes usually carry water, right? So maybe the entrance to the Chamber is in one of the bathrooms!"

Draco shrugged. "I wouldn't know." He had a bored look to his eyes, as if he would rather be anywhere but there at that moment.

"Come on," Harry said, frowning. "At least try to be helpful. We should start looking through the bathrooms. But there's dozens of bathrooms …." Harry sighed. "We'll start with the Slytherin bathrooms and then work our way through."

"Oh, that's going to be nice," Draco said, snorting. "Slytherins going into _every_ bathroom in Hogwarts? Is that including the Prefects? Come off it."

"Well we don't have any time to do it now," Harry replied. "Lockhart is probably ready to go find the Chamber and rescue Isabelle."

"I'm staying here," Draco responded firmly. "I'm not going to go on another one of your silly adventures like last year."

"This isn't _like _last year," Harry argued. "Someone's life is in danger. Your friends _sister _is in danger. I'd really appreciate it if you came, Draco."

Draco didn't answer automatically. He took his time, his eyes roaming around the room, a thoughtful look placed on his face. Finally he let out a sigh and stood up.

"Let's go."

-

Harry and Draco made their way into Lockhart's office, and were surprised to find that all of his stuff was messily thrown into to large trunks open on the floor.

"Professor Lockhart?" Harry spoke, surprising the DADA Professor.

"Ah, yes, hello. What can I do for you? Make it quick, as you can see, I'm a bit busy," Lockhart replied, putting quills on top of everything else in one trunk.

"We've come to give you some information on the Chamber of Secrets," Harry replied.

"Oh, that's very nice," Lockhart said, looking up. "But I'm leaving."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the man. "Excuse me?"

"An urgent call," Lockhart quickly added. "Cannot avoid it, I must leave."

"You're just going to let a student die?" Harry said in surprise. Lockhart went over to his trunks and started to close them.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry, but as I said—"

"You're the Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor!" Harry exclaimed, scowling. "You're just going to run away? What about all that stuff you said you did in your books? You didn't run away from them."

When Lockhart didn't reply, but continued to pretend closing his trunks even though they were already closed, Harry knew what was going on.

"Did you make all that stuff up?" Harry questioned suspiciously. "Did you just _say _you did all those things, when you didn't?"

Lockhart sighed. "I didn't _make them up, _my dear boy. Everything really did happen."

"But it wasn't you who did them," Draco spoke up for the first time, hardly sounding at all accusing. It sounded like he was explaining something, but not accusing. "Other people did. You're just taking credit for it."

Lockhart shrugged delicately, pulling his wand out and aiming it at the boys. "So sorry, but we can't have you blabbing any of the things you've figured out, can we?"

But, before Lockhart could do anything else, Harry and Draco both had their wands out as well and were aiming at Lockhart.

"Now, now," Lockhart said nervously. "No need to be hasty about this, right?"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Draco bellowed. Lockhart flew backwards, his wand flying high in the air. Harry caught it.

Lockhart quickly scrambled up, his hands above his chest, as if in surrender. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is," he said weakly. "There is absolutely nothing I can do."

"Yes there is," Harry said shortly. "We have an idea of where it might be, and what's inside of it. Now, d'you know if there's a bathroom close to here? If there is, we can try that first, and if it doesn't work then we'll try the Slytherin bathroom, and then so on."

They led Lockhart out of the office, searching around for a bathroom until they finally came across one.

Harry glanced at Draco. "Should we try it?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But … isn't this a _girls _bathroom?"

"_Every _bathroom," Harry reminded Draco, who made a face.

They entered and started to investigate everything in the bathroom. Harry was inspecting the sinks, while at the same time keeping an eye on Lockhart, and Draco was checking the toilets, which he had at first firmly refused to do, but then gave in in the end.

Harry whirled around as Draco shouted out when he reached the end toilet.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a _girl _in this one!" Draco said, making a face. "I … think she's a ghost though."

The ghost of the girl rose into the air and made her way out of the toilet.

"No boys allowed in the girls bathroom," the ghost said.

"We're just looking for something," Harry said quickly. "We're looking for something important."

The ghosts eyes studied Harry, and then Draco, and then her eyes went to the side.

"That one's leaving," she stated.

Harry knew at once what she was talking about. Drawing out his wand, he turned around and pointed it at Lockhart, who was tiptoeing towards the door.

Lockhart's shoulders sagged as he was caught, but went back over to the sinks, an impassive look on his face.

"Look, Harry," Draco said from behind Harry. He turned around to see what Draco was looking at, and, as he inspected the copper tap that Draco was studying, he noticed a small snake.

Harry took his finger and pressed down on the snake, wondering if maybe it was a button. It wasn't.

"That tap doesn't work," the ghost said, as Harry tried to turn it.

"Try using Parseltongue and speak to it," Draco suggested. "Maybe that'll do something."

Harry stared at the little snake intently, then said, "Open."

When he glanced up at Draco, he noticed the blonde boy shaking his head. "That was English."

Harry sighed, then turned back to the tap. He squinted his eyes at the snake. Maybe if he pretended that it was a real snake, that he was talking to Syther, it would work.

"Open," he tried again. This time when he looked up, Draco said, "It was in Parseltongue."

Harry looked around the bathroom, but nothing was happening.

"Try saying something else," suggested Draco.

Harry sighed again. Willing himself to believe that this snake was real again, he said, "Open _up_."

Then, the sink with the snake on it, sunk into the ground to reveal a large, black opening.

"Hmm," Harry said, peering down in it. It just seemed to keep going; like there was no ending to it. With a cheerful look, he looked at Lockhart, who was staring at the black hole with a nervous look.

"You can go first."

Lockhart abruptly looked up, shaking his head. "No, no that's fine—you really don't seem to be needing me anymore. I think I'll just go."

With a dirty look, Draco held his wand out, pointing it at Lockhart. His lip started to curl before he spoke.

"I believe you were asked to go first. Don't think I won't use this on you, because I will."

Pale and shaky, Lockhart stepped forward. Harry distinctly heard him mutter under his breath, however: "If only I had my wand…."

"But you don't," Harry said coolly, holding up Lockhart's wand. "I do."

Lockhart hesitantly peered into the pipe. He turned around, opening his mouth to say something, but Draco gave him a hard push. At first, Lockhart wobbled, then he lost his footing and fell back, soon out of sight.

Before Draco followed, he glared at Harry. "I really have no clue why we're doing this."

"Because somebody might die if we don't," Harry pointed out. "And if it were _you _in this situation, instead of Isabelle, then I'd still do the exact same thing, as well."

Draco stared at Harry before, looking a little reluctant, lowering himself into the pipe, and then let go. Harry immediately followed.

Harry's heartbeat quickened as he twisted and curved through the pipes, finally hitting the ground.

"Where are we?" Came Lockhart's voice from the darkness.

"Probably miles underneath the school," Harry replied. He took out his wand and said, "_Lumos!_"

As they walked through the tunnel, the only thing Harry heard was their breathing, their shoes making squishy noises on the wet floor, and the occasional '_drip, drip, drop,_' of water drops landing on the floor.

"Look," Draco said, nodding his head forward. "Something's up there."

It turned out to be a long strip of gigantic snake skin.

"Well, it said that the Basilisk was also known as the 'king of serpents.'"

"I can see why," Draco replied. He scowled as Lockhart's legs visibly started to buckle. "Get yourself together," he snapped.

That's when, half-crouching, half-standing, Lockhart dived at Harry, knocking him off his feet.

"Geroff!" Harry said, twisting on the ground as Lockhart searched for his wand.

The next minute, Harry found himself up on his feet again, with both wands still in his pocket.

Draco was aiming his own wand at Lockhart, who was crouching near the wall, holding his side where Draco had kicked him off of Harry.

Draco, without taking his eyes off Lockhart, said to Harry, "Go. I'll deal with this pathetic git and then I'll come meet you, or try to find a way out or something."

"You sure?" Harry asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah."

By the tone in Draco's voice, Harry knew that the boy was up to something. Taking several hesitant steps forward, away from Draco and Lockhart, Harry froze when he heard Draco's voice ring through the tunnel.

"_Obliviate!_"

Harry spun around, his mouth open slightly as a huge wall of rock separated Lockhart and Draco from himself.

"What did you do that for?" Harry yelled, going over to the wall. Draco's voice might've been muffled, but he still heard what the boy said.

"I had to do something."

"Did you _have _to use your wand?"

Draco sounded happy with himself when he replied. "Yes. Listen, you go and be the hero, I'll stay here and look after this oaf. It'd take us hours for me to get to the other side."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes, I am. Maybe when this git wakes up I'll get him to try to move some of these rocks so you can get back through."

"All right," Harry agreed. "Now, if I'm not back in an hour, an hour or half an hour, then you … well … you try to find someway to get back to Hogwarts. I'll see you in a bit."

"All right," came Draco's agreeing voice. "If you're not back in half an hour or so, I'll leave. But if you return late and find me gone … well, there's nothing I can really do about that."

Then Harry set off by himself, soon coming to two intertwined snakes carved onto a wall. Harry guessed that it was probably a doorway.

"_Open._"

He really didn't need to pretend that these snakes were alive, since they actually looked like they were. Or maybe that was just their large, emerald eyes giving it that effect.

The serpents parted, and the wall split in two, moving back until they were out of sight. Then, inhaling a shaky breath, Harry hesitantly walked inside.

-

When Harry was inside, the first thing he started to do was look for Isabelle. What he saw, however, was a statue that seemed to be as tall as the Chamber itself.

Between the feet of the statue, was a figure laying there. At once Harry knew it was Nicholas's sister.

Harry rushed over to her, and dropped down to his knees and turned Isabelle over on her back. He put his wand aside, and gently shook her shoulders.

"Isabelle? Don't be dead … Nicholas won't like it if you're dead. No matter how much he says he doesn't like you, I know he loves you. You have to be alive for when Nicholas wakes up." Harry shook her shoulders again, but Isabelle's head lolled to the side. "Wake up, Isabelle."

"She won't wake," a familiar, soft voice said from behind Harry. Harry turned his head around to see who it was, and felt his mouth open slightly when he noticed a tall, black-haired boy standing behind Harry, twirling Harry's wand in his hands.

"Tom Riddle?" Harry said, his voice thick with disbelief. "How do you know she won't wake? Is she … dead?"

It was hard to get the word off his tongue, but Harry managed to do it.

"Oh, no," Riddle said, speaking soft, almost like the wind. "She's alive. Barely, but … still alive."

Harry looked down at Isabelle again, then back at Riddle. He gently put Isabelle's head on the ground, and then stood up.

"Are you some sort of ghost?" Harry asked tentatively.

"No. A memory. Preserved in a diary—my diary—for fifty years," Riddle replied quietly. His eyes slowly left Harry, and landed on the diary near the statue's toe.

"How did it get there?" Harry wondered out loud, then changed the subject. "Listen, you have to help me get Isabelle back up to Hogwarts, or she's not going to make it."

Riddle didn't move.

"Please?" Harry tried again. "We have to get her back up to Hogwarts before the Basilisk comes!"

"The Basilisk won't come until I call it," Riddle spoke up.

Harry frowned. "Until _you _call it?"

Riddle nodded. "That's right."

Harry eyed the boy suspiciously, then took notice of Riddle twirling his wand idly in his fingers.

"Can I have my wand back?"

Riddle made no attempt to move. Instead, he said, "Why? You won't need it."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What's that suppose to mean?" Suddenly, he wasn't quite so trusting of Tom Riddle anymore.

"I have waited a very long time to talk to you, Harry Potter," Riddle said. A slow smile crept along Riddle's face as he pocketed the wand.

"How did Isabelle get like this?" Harry asked, his suspicion of the boy growing. "Did you—"

"Let's just say," Riddle interrupted loudly, "that Isabelle shouldn't of told any of her secrets to an invisible stranger."

Harry immediately remembered the diary.

"She had your diary," he said. "Didn't she?"

"Of course she did," Riddle answered. "At first she was a bit hesitant in using it, but then she began to tell me everything. How upset she is that one of her brothers loathes her, how nervous she is about starting Hogwarts, how she secretly wanted to be placed into _Gryffindor _instead of Slytherin.

"I grew stronger as she continued to tell me things, tell me her deepest fears and secrets. The more stronger I grew, the more I was able to pour a little bit of _my _soul into _hers._"

Harry was still trying to grasp around everything as Riddle began to speak again.

"Telling from the way you look, you still don't get it," Riddle said, his voice having a dangerous ring to it. "_Isabelle _is the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. _She _was the one writing the messages on the wall, and set the Basilisk on the Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"The squib?" Harry repeated. "You … mean …."

Harry didn't finish his sentence, since Riddle cut in.

"Of course, Miss Isabelle hadn't a _clue _what was happening in the beginning. Then, she started to become more suspicious. You should've seen her diary entries. One by one Isabelle began to realize that it just may be _her _attacking everybody.

"Then, of course, Miss Isabelle began to not trust in her diary anymore," Riddle continued calmly. "That's when she tried to get rid of it. I believe it was _you _she bumped into while trying to find a good place to dispose of it."

Harry looked down at the girl on the floor, then the diary by the statue. "When she hugged me, she slipped the diary into my bag."

Riddle looked pleased. "I was most delighted, since I was very anxious to meet you. She told me what a good friend you were to her brother, of your bravery and how she wondered if you'd ever want to be friends with her like you are her brother."

Harry clenched his teeth together. "What about the memory you dragged me into before? Hagrid wasn't the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago, was it? It was _you._"

"Very clever. Yes. Ever since I got Hagrid expelled, Dumbledore would keep an annoyingly close eye on me, so I knew that it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still attending Hogwarts. So that's why I decided to leave behind my diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in it. So I would hopefully be able to lead another in my footsteps, to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Nobody's died yet," Harry said triumphantly. "Not even Filch's cat. Soon, in a few hours, everyone that was Petrified will be fine again."

"Hmm," Riddle said, in his annoyingly soft voice. "Don't you get it? I'm not targeting the mudbloods anymore. No … I've been targeting you.

"Soon after Isabelle left the book in your bag," Riddle started, "she realized what a mistake she made. After all, what if I told you her secrets? What if I told you that it was her putting those messages on the wall?"

"It was Isabelle who went in the dorm and took the diary," Harry said in realization.

Riddle nodded. "Right. Then I made Isabelle write her farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. There isn't much life in her now, though, is there? No … she put too much of it into the diary … _into me._"

"I still don't get it," Harry said quietly. He began to add onto the sentence, to explain what he still did not get, but Riddle cut him off.

"No, no. You had your turn; now it's mine. Tell me, how is it that a _baby _managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time, only escaping with nothing but a mere scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, whilst Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"What do you care?" Harry said. "Voldemort was after your time."

"Voldemort is my past, present and future, Harry Potter," was Riddle's reply. He took Harry's wand out and wrote something in the air:

_Tom Marvolo Riddle _

Then, with a wave of the wand, the words began to rearrange themselves.

_I Am Lord Voldemort _

"You're Lord Voldemort," Harry whispered, watching as the letters began to disappear.

Riddle smiled. "That's right. The greatest Sorcerer of all time."

"You're not the greatest Sorcerer of all time," Harry spat, his disbelief fading. "Dumbledore is."

Riddle growled. But before he could say anything, music started from somewhere, and a bird soon came towards them. It landed near Harry, and when it did, he noticed that the bird was none other than Fawkes. The phoenix, however, seemed to be carrying something.

Riddle started to laugh.

"That's it? Dumbledore sends you a _songbird? _And … the old school Sorting Hat? How thoughtful," he said sarcastically. "So, do you feel safe now? Do you feel brave?" Riddle's twisted smile widened. "Why don't we match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him?"

Harry watched as Riddle went over to the high pillars, looked up into the face of Salazar Slytherin, and said something in Parseltongue, which Harry understood completely.

_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four. _

Harry began to back away as a great, long serpent slithered out of the statues mouth. It was the basilisk. Then, Harry distinctly heard Riddle command the snake to '_Kill him._'

As the serpent began to follow Harry, Harry started to pick up speed. How would he be able to get rid of the Basilisk?

The wand! Harry might not have his wand anymore, but he did have Lockhart's wand!

Harry started to feel around his pockets for it, but he felt nothing. Did the wand fall out when Lockhart tackled him? Oh, please say it didn't … it was all Harry had left …

Then, Harry stopped running when he realized that the serpent had stopped following him. Harry turned around to see that Fawkes had pecked at the serpents eyes, blinding it and making it unable to use its deadly gaze on Harry.

But, as Riddle commanded it to move on, no matter that it was no blind, the serpent obeyed. As the long snake lunged forward, Harry jumped to the side. _Where was that wand? Could it have fallen out? Oh, please, let me find it … I need it … _

The serpent came back quickly, Harry turned around and started to run. But, even though it couldn't see, the Basilisk continued to follow Harry. How was that possible? It was blind. Then, all thoughts then slipped out of his mind, as, not too far away from Harry, Harry noticed something long and black laying on the floor. Could it be Lockhart's wand?

Harry didn't stop to think about it. He went forward, and sure enough, it was Lockhart's wand. Harry picked it up, his mind reeling. Now that he had a wand, what could he do to the serpent? To make sure it would never be able to kill again?

The serpent had somehow found Harry, and quietly, Harry moved to the side. The Basilisk's head moved around, listening for anything that would give it a sign as to where Harry was.

The wand couldn't do anything. But … why did Dumbledore send Fawkes and the Sorting Hat? Somehow, Dumbledore must've thought that they would be of help. Fawkes certainly was of help; the phoenix had blinded the Basilisk. But what about the Sorting Hat?

That's when the Basilisk figured out where Harry was. It slithered towards Harry, who jumped out of the way just in time. He ran over to the Sorting Hat, which lay a few inches away from Isabelle. Riddle continued to laugh, obviously enjoying the scene playing in front of him.

Harry picked up the Sorting Hat, and when he did, Riddle's laughter soon died. Maybe there was something inside of the hat? Harry held the hat up, but before he could put his hand inside of it, something fell onto the hard ground with a _clunk. _

It was a sword … and Harry knew exactly what he was going to do with it.

When the serpent sniffed him out again and lunged, Harry drove the sword up into the Basilisk's mouth. He was close enough to the large snake to hear a sickening noise that made his stomach churn as the sword went up through its mouth, and he also felt a searing pain in his arm, like somebody was taking a sword and—instead of driving it into his mouth—shoving it through his arm.

Harry pulled the sword back. It was covered in warm blood, as was his arm, and he noticed a large tooth sticking out of his arm.

Harry staggered backwards as the Basilisk fell to the ground. He slid against the wall, his head resting against it as he tried to breath evenly again. He felt dizzy and drowsy, a sign that something was, obviously, wrong.

Then he remembered what it said about the Basilisk. He couldn't remember it word-for-word, but he remembered something about _venomous fangs …_

Harry closed his eyes, unaware that Riddle was watching him, looking pleased. He suddenly felt something fall into his lap. It wasn't heavy, it was rather light. Opening his eyes and looking down at his lap, he saw that it was Riddle's diary, and that it was Fawkes who put it in his lap.

He glanced sideways at Fawkes, who was giving him a meaningful look. And suddenly, he got it.

He pulled the fang out of his arm, wincing at the dreadful pain it caused, and drove it into the heart of the book with his good arm.

Riddle was writhing, and a horrible scream echoed through the Chamber of Secrets, and in a few moments, Riddle was gone.

Harry soon was becoming breathless, and along with the pain in his arm, he was becoming warm. He knew, that soon, just like Riddle, he'd be gone, too.

-

A/N: Sorry I had to leave it like this. R and R, I love hearing from you … and if you want me to continue then I really must hear from you!


	17. Home

**Chapter Eight**

Harry remained on the Chamber floor, his back and head resting against the wall. A ways away, Isabelle was laying on the floor, but she was slowly coming to. Harry's vision, even though he was still wearing his glasses, was becoming unfocused; blurry.

Then, he felt something warm fall onto his wounded arm. Harry wished he could see what it was, since it didn't feel like blood, and then … then, his vision was coming back. The chamber was slowly coming back into focus, and he saw Isabelle slowly crawling her way over to Harry.

Harry glanced down at his arm to see no wound. Thinking that maybe he was looking at the wrong arm, he glanced at the other one, but there was no wound on that one, either.

"That's an amazing bird," Isabelle said, her voice barely over a whisper as she reached Harry. "It healed you."

Harry looked down at Fawkes, a feeling of gratitude washing over him. Yes, Fawkes _was _an amazing bird … an amazing _phoenix. _

"Isabelle—"

Isabelle shook her head wildly, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. It looked like she was having a hard time doing so, since her chin quivered violently.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "This is all my fault. I'm going to be expelled, aren't I? I'm not even going to make it to my second year …. I wouldn't be surprised, though. What I did was horrible, even _for _a Slytherin—"

"Some Slytherin's have done worse," Harry said gently, slowly standing on unsteady feet. "But it wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was! _I _accepted that diary from that stranger. It was pathetic to do … but it looked nice. Old, b—but nice!"

Isabelle sniffed, standing up as well. Her chin had stopped quivering so violently, but it still trembled a bit.

"What did the stranger look like, Isabelle?" Harry asked, picking up the Sorting Hat. He put the sword in it, then picked up the diary with the hole in it as well. Fawkes was soaring above them.

"I—I forget," Isabelle said, wiping her puffy and bloodshot eyes. "He kind of reminded me of yours and N—Nicholas's friend. Er—."

"Draco?" Harry suggested as they walked out of the chambers. The doors behind them shut with a hiss.

Isabelle nodded. "Yeah. He, um … he had the same hair and eyes as D—Draco, but … um … he said that he had—had the diary and he didn't know who to give it to and asked if I wanted it … I met him in Diagon Alley."

"And you took it," Harry finished.

"It looked nice!" Isabelle said defensively. "It was a really pathetic thing to do … I know … so I deserve what I get." She glanced hesitantly at Harry. "C—can you walk?"

"I'm doing it now, aren't I?" Harry snapped, but then regretted doing it. He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but his right temple was throbbing like mad.

"S—sorry," the girl apologized. "You just don't seem … er … steady."

"I'm fine—look! I think Draco made progress with the rocks." Harry said as they neared the wall of rocks, which had a whole at the side.

"_I _made progress with nothing," came Draco's voice. "Lockhart here is the one doing all the work."

"Of course!" Came Lockhart's voice as the whole became a bit bigger. "I _am _the one who is famous for digging through rocks, aren't I?"

"Digging through rocks?" Harry repeated. "What sort of profession is that?"

"A very good one," Lockhart responded. "_Everyone _knows the name of Dorkal Morstermeyer!"

"Who's Dorkal Morstermeyer?" Isabelle asked as she climbed through the whole. Harry followed, catching a glimpse at Lockhart's cold gaze on Isabelle.

"Dorkal Morstermeyer," Lockhart started coolly, "is I."

Harry gave Draco a puzzled look, but the blonde boy just smirked, obviously not going to say anything, except, "Where did the bird and the sword come from?"

"Dumbledore," Harry responded shortly. "Come on, I think Fawkes is going to get us back to Hogwarts."

Draco gave Harry a look. "_How? _It's just a bird."

Harry shook his head. "It's a phoenix. Now, Professor Lockhart, you hold onto Draco and Isabelle, you hold onto Professor Lockhart, OK?"

"He's talking to you," Isabelle told Lockhart.

"Obviously not," the man responded, puffing out his chest. "I am Dorkal Morstermeyer, famous for digging through rocks!" His chest deflated as he gave Draco a suspicious look. "At least, that's what _you _told me."

"And it's true," Draco said firmly. "You _are _Dorkal Morstermeyer and you _do _dig through rocks."

Harry put his fingers to his temple. The headache he had was throbbing at the top of his head and on the side, but he grabbed onto Fawkes's foot anyway as the phoenix lifted them up into the air, seeming to have no trouble at all carrying them.

-  
Harry, Draco, Isabelle and Lockhart stood in front of the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office.

"We don't know the password," Isabelle said, her voice quiet and a bit scared. "W—why don't we try your dad's office, Harry? He is the Head of Slytherin house—"

"She's right," Draco said. "We don't know the password so we might as well check Professor Snape's office."

"Maybe their in Lockhart's office," Harry suggested.

"He's talking about you," Isabelle pointed out to Lockhart, who scowled.

"He can't be talking of _me. _I'm Dorkal—."

"Morstermeyer," Harry interrupted. "We know."

Harry pressed a hand to his temple, but then felt something wet and warm trickling down the side of his face. When he took his hand away and observed it, he saw that it was blood.

"You have a huge gash on the side of your face," Lockhart pointed out. "You should really get it looked at."

Harry was just about to answer Lockhart when he heard a "Oh my," and saw Professor McGonagall in front of them. With a surprised look at all four of them, McGonagall continued by saying, "Follow me."

As it turned out, McGonagall led them to Severus's office, where Dumbledore was talking to the Potions master. Heads turned when McGonagall arrived with Harry, Draco, Isabelle and Lockhart behind her in the doorway.

"Bit gloomy in here, isn't it?" Lockhart said, looking around the office. "I like it! It reminds of the darkness and dampness of being down with the rocks! Now, all we need added here _is _rocks … then it'd be just right …"

"He thinks he's somebody famous for digging through rocks," Harry said quietly, avoiding Severus's gaze. "We don't exactly know how."

Harry gave Draco a quiet, impassive look, and Draco returned it.

"A wand backfired," Draco explained easily. "I'm not sure how … he tried to Obliviate us. He had his wand pointed the other way—facing him, I think—that's probably how; wasn't paying attention."

If Dumbledore didn't believe this, he showed no signs of it. Instead, he looked as if he believed Draco's false explanation.

"Miss Nixon?" Dumbledore started. "You may go to the hospital wing. You're parents will be arriving shortly to see you. You better go too, Mr Malfoy—Mr Potter-Snape, if you would stay here."

Harry watched silently as Isabelle and Draco left.

"Perhaps you should go too, Gilderoy," Dumbledore added. Lockhart never moved, but instead was continuing to look around the office in approval.

"He's talking to you, Dorkal Morstermeyer," Harry said to Lockhart. "Just follow those two."

"Righty-O," came Lockhart's response as he did as Harry told him to and followed Draco and Isabelle down the corridor. Harry looked back at Dumbledore, still carefully avoiding Severus, and waited patiently for Dumbledore (or maybe even Severus) to say something.

All Dumbledore said to Harry was, "Sit down" and then after, Dumbledore began to question Harry about what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets, then Harry would ask questions of his own and Dumbledore would answer.

"Um … Professor?" Harry glanced down at the sword in his hands, which he had put in the sorting hat and had momentarily forgotten about them both. "Thank you—for Fawkes and the sword."

"I thought you might need them," was his reply. "Why don't you go down to the hospital wing and get that cut looked at?"

Harry had his hands on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, ready to stand up, when a very cold Lucius Malfoy appeared in the doorway, followed closely by his house-elf, Dobby. Harry didn't bother to finish standing up, but sat back down in the chair, only slightly interested in hearing what Lucius Malfoy had to say.

When Mr. Malfoy spoke, his voice was slow and cold, and rather sharp at times. Harry could see how much Draco resembled his father: the blonde hair and sharp blue eyes were the most obvious of things.

Dobby had kept wide, almost meaningful eyes on Lucius Malfoy, and then swerved to Riddle's diary in Dumbledore's hands, and then back at Draco's father. It almost seemed like there was an important _reason _for Dobby to be doing that …

Harry only tuned back into Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore and Severus's conversation then. Lucius was becoming angry at Dumbledore for letting Draco 'risk his life like that'. Harry blocked out the rest of the conversation as he tried to figure out what Dobby meant by pointing to Lucius Malfoy, and then the diary, not bothering to use his large eyes anymore.

Harry's eyes became more narrow as he began to understand. Then, he remembered what Isabelle had said down in the Chamber of Secrets: "_I _accepted that diary from that stranger. It was pathetic to do … but it looked nice. Old, b—but nice!"

_I accepted that diary from that stranger. _

Harry looked at Lucius Malfoy as he gave Dumbledore a cold, sharp glare, then an expressionless look at Severus, and then abruptly turned around and started for the door, Dobby quickly following.

"Wait, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said hastily before Lucius Malfoy left. The man turned around, his face remaining blank. "I believe you're forgetting something?"

"I'm not forgetting anything," was Mr. Malfoy's response.

"Oh?" Harry pretended to be confused as he looked at the diary with the whole in the center of it; it was still in Dumbledore's hands. "That there—the diary—isn't yours? You _are _the one who gave the diary to Isabelle Nixon in Diagon Alley, right?"

There was a brief narrowing of the eyes from Lucius Malfoy. His impassive, careless tone with Harry became cold.

"I'm afraid it's not mine," he answered coolly. "Good day."

Harry watched as Mr. Malfoy left, but he could still hear Dobby giving a few cries of pain along the corridor, but they were slowly fading.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said quickly, standing up. "Do you mind if I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore replied, handing the diary over to Harry. Harry accepted it, and for the first time made eye contact with Severus. Harry didn't let his gaze linger on the Potions master long enough to read into the expression, but dashed from the office and followed the fading sounds of Dobby, which were soon becoming clearer.

Before Harry reached the two, however, he slipped off his right shoe and sock, stuffed the sock into the first page of the diary and put his shoe back on.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said, slightly out of breath when he caught up to them. "This belongs to you."

He held the diary out in front of him, watching as Lucius Malfoy silently inspected it. He snatched it from Harry, continued to stare at it, and then shoved it roughly into Dobby's arms.

Mr. Malfoy gave Harry a long, cold stare. "Good _day._"

He began to walk away, and Dobby began to follow, but Harry stopped the house-elf with a meaningful look. Dobby stopped walking, and after receiving Harry's look, glanced down at the diary. Hesitantly, Dobby opened it, his large eyes becoming larger as he stared at the sock that lay in the first page.

"Come, Dobby," Lucius Malfoy said sharply.

"M—Master has given Dobby a _sock,_" Dobby said in awe, his voice trembling. "D—Dobby is _free!_"

Lucius Malfoy paled, looking livid. For a second, Harry wondered if he would lunge at him, or possibly use his wand on him. He seemed to have second thoughts about something, and giving Harry possibly the dirtiest glare Harry had ever seen, quickly walked away.

Harry wondered why Lucius didn't say anything, or do anything. Was it because Severus Snape was his father—or, _adoptive _father? Harry knew that Lucius Malfoy and Severus were friends, or something of the sort …

-

After Dobby had finished thanking Harry for freeing him, Harry went down to the hospital wing to get the gash on his face looked at. As he went to the hospital, Harry began to realize that it was probably the said gash near his temple giving him the painful headache.

All Harry remembered when he went down to the hospital wing was falling asleep, then waking up to find Nicholas's face grinning down at him.

"Hi Harry," Nicholas said brightly. "Feeling any better?"

Harry grinned back. "I should be asking you the same question."

"Oh, I'm fine. How's … um … how's Isabelle?"

"She's OK, I think," Harry replied, sitting up. "Didn't you see her yet? I think she's in the bed next to mine—"

"Yeah," Nicholas said, biting his lip. "I haven't yet … too nervous … something important to tell her …."

He was muttering now, so Harry only caught bits and pieces of what he was saying. He got what Nicholas meant, though.

"She knows," Harry interrupted. "She found the letter."

Nicholas visibly paled.

"So … you know, too?"

Harry nodded. Nicholas opened his mouth to say something, then glanced sideways, at the doors to the hospital wing. With a half-hearted smile, he said, "We'll talk after. I'm allowed to leave … so, I'll see you at the feast …"

Harry watched as Nicholas left … only to have a dark figure arrive shortly (more like a few seconds) after his friends departure.

"Er … hi, Dad," Harry said, smiling uncertainly. He had been avoiding Severus for this long, so he wasn't exactly sure what to say. That was the main reason for avoiding his father—for lack of knowing what to say to him after this happened.

Severus looked down at Harry, his expression blank. "You could've died."

"No, 'Hi, Harry?'" Harry said weakly, giving a weak smile to go with it.

"You do something like this and expect me to say, 'Hi, Harry'?" Severus said. His voice sounded cold, though his face showed no signs of coolness.

"I'm sorry!"

"You're sorry," Severus mimicked. "And what, exactly, are you sorry for?"

"Um…," Harry trailed off thoughtfully. "Doing something like this?"

Severus's face hardened. "You haven't a clue why you're sorry, do you?"

Harry looked around the room nervously. "I'm … sorry … for … uh …"

"Are you sorry," Severus started, "for not telling me what you were going to do first so I could stop you?"

"No," Harry said under his breath, but Severus heard him. The man raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"_Excuse me?_"

"I said 'no'," Harry said, more firm and louder than before. "I'm _not _sorry about that. Dad, Lockhart was going to leave—he wasn't going to save Isabelle—and if I didn't go, she'd be _dead _now and the Basilisk would be alive and—and—"

Harry sighed. "I _am _sorry for making you mad, though."

"That's all you're sorry for?" Severus's tone was rather cool and curt, definitely not getting any softer.

"All that I can think of to be sorry for at the moment," Harry replied truthfully.

Severus studied him for a moment longer in silence. Harry wondered whether he should say something else, maybe change the subject, but he didn't have to speak; Severus did.

"You should stay in the hospital wing for a bit longer, just to rest. Mr. Nixon will come back later when the feast in the great hall has begun. Do rest a bit longer, Potter. After what happened today I assume you need it."

Harry watched silently as Severus turned around and left the hospital wing. He had called him _Potter. _Severus hadn't called Harry by his surname—or at least, part of his surname—in what seemed like a long time. Just by that Harry could tell that he was _very _angry.

-

For the rest of the final term, Severus had stayed angry at Harry, never once calling the boy by his first name. Defence Against The Dark Arts were cancelled due to Lockhart's memory loss (he still insisted very firmly that he was Dorkal Morstermeyer) and Nicholas and Isabelle were beginning to grow just a bit closer, and everybody who knew of Nicholas's adoption didn't seem to care (which, only Isabelle, Harry and Draco—and of course Isabelle's parents—knew.)

Draco, however, was becoming distant towards Harry ever since Harry had caused his family to lose Dobby. He was also becoming distant towards Nicholas as well, probably because he was muggle-born and in Slytherin—Draco just thought that wasn't right, and something should be done about it.

Isabelle and Hermione Granger continued to be friends—mostly they just sat in the library together reading. A few people had found out about the Gryffindor/Slytherin friendship, and slowly the whole school was beginning to know about it.

"This is good, though," Nicholas said to Isabelle cheerfully during lunch one day. "House unity. I really don't see the reason why Slytherin's are, well, hated by mostly everybody. Ok," he quickly added at Isabelle's disbelieving look, "I have a very _faint _idea, but—"

"You never used to think like that," Isabelle pointed out. "Remember? Before your first year at Hogwarts you wanted to be put in Slytherin. No other house would do for you. You thought Slytherin's were '_the best_', and no other house would satisfy you. Do you remember? When did all this new stuff happen?"

Nicholas gave Harry a playful, accusing look. "Ever since I met _him._"

Harry now stood by the train as Nicholas and Isabelle went on. He glanced down as he felt something by his feet. It was a rat.

Harry picked it up and looked at the rats face. It was actually kind of ugly, but as Harry inspected it a bit more, he saw something _unusual _about it. Maybe it was because the rat had a missing toe. _A missing toe? _Why did Harry suddenly have a familiar feeling? Something about a rat with a missing toe sounded so familiar …

It was then that Harry saw a redheaded boy desperately searching the grounds for something. Hesitantly, Harry stepped forward.

"Are you looking for this?"

The boy—Ron Weasley, in Gryffindor, Harry saw—looked up, then down at the rat in Harry's hands. Wordlessly, Ron took the rat from Harry and muttered "Thanks", then quietly boarded the train.

-

Harry was becoming quite irritated with Severus as they flooed back to the Snape manor. Severus was still angry with Harry—his tone or expression didn't show it, but he kept calling Harry '_Potter_'.

Harry set his trunk down by the fireplace. "Come on," he said suddenly to Severus. "Haven't you been angry with me long enough? I said I was sorry for not telling you that I was going to try to find the Chamber of Secrets before I went. I just knew you'd try to stop me. But it's over—done with."

Harry followed Severus into the dining room. He stopped abruptly when Severus whirled around.

"You just don't get it, do you, Harry?" Severus questioned, his voice low, but sounding much angrier than before. At least he had called him 'Harry' again. "I don't care at all that you didn't tell me you were going to _find the Chamber of Secrets. _What I've been angry about is that you _could've died! _I say it, but you don't seem to understand what I mean. _You could have died down there, and you just don't seem to care!_"

"Oh." Harry was at a loss for words. Then— "Yes, I _do _know that I could've died, Dad. I do know what you mean, and I _do _care if I died or not! I actually _did _die, Dad!" Harry let out a sigh. "One of the Basilisk's poisonous fangs got in my arm when I killed it with that sword. I died, I was _so _close to it—I could feel death—but then Fawkes healed me."

"You did all this just to save your friend?" Severus said in a quiet voice, his gaze piercing. "You almost gave your life for theirs?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Yes."

Severus blinked, looking exhausted. "You should've been sorted into Gryffindor."

Harry didn't grin at all. He didn't feel like grinning then—it actually seemed like the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'll go put my trunk in my room," Harry said quietly. He turned around, slowly walking towards the living room, where he left his trunk. When he reached the doorway to the said room, Harry froze, his mouth opening slightly.

"W—what are you doing here?" Harry stuttered, looking at the person who now stood by his trunks, a cheerful smile decorating their face. "How'd you get in?"

-

A/N: All right! End of part TWO! Anyways, here's what it is … :

Can you guess who the person in the living room is? If you can, and you get it right, I'm going to give you a _very _important spoiler that's going to come up in the story! I don't know why I'm doing this … I just thought it'd be fun.

Anyways: you guess, you get it right, I tell you the important part coming up. That is, you only have to do this if you want to. 

I am **not **going to say that the first person who guesses right will be the only one who gets to know, I'm going to tell whoever DOES want to do it and DOES get it right.

Umm … I guess that's all. Thanks, and R and R!


	18. Surprise!

A/N - If you did not receive an e-mail from me with the spoiler, then I'm sorry but you did not guess correctly—that, or you didn't give me your e-mail address to reply back to! However, I'm feeling in a generous mood today, and: for everybody who did not receive a spoiler and wants one, I will give it to them if they tell me that they want it (e-mail address has to be included). That's it.

-

**Chapter Nine**

_Harry didn't grin at all. He didn't feel like grinning then—it actually seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. _

"I'll go put my trunk in my room," Harry said quietly. He turned around, slowly walking towards the living room, where he left his trunk. When he reached the doorway to the said room, Harry froze, his mouth opening slightly.

"W—what are you doing here?" Harry stuttered, looking at the person who now stood by his trunks, a cheerful smile decorating their face. "How'd you get in?"

The person smiled, still as cheerful as ever. Harry still hadn't a clue why the person was here, standing in the living room in front of the fireplace. No message was sent saying they were going to be here.

"What, no 'Hi'? What a way to treat your guest!" Came the reply.

"I'm just surprised," Harry confessed. By this time, Severus had already appeared at Harry's side.

The boy in the living room was much taller than Harry remembered. His hair had grown out some, and what was surprising was that he, to Harry, looked like he grew up a lot during their time apart—though Harry could tell he still had his weird sense of humour. The boy's clothes, however, were muddy, and Harry saw a few cuts on his face.

Nathaniel Jacobs caught Harry staring.

"Oh, I got these when I tried to come into the house," he explained casually. "Very interesting time I had actually; sit down, sit down, I want to tell you—even you, Snapey."

"I don't want to hear about your time getting in," Harry said. "I want to hear about your home and family. You didn't say much in your letters."

"I'll tell you about that as soon as I tell you about _this _story," Nathaniel replied eagerly.

"OK," Harry said with a sigh. "Tell this _fascinating _story."

"Well, you see, It's the funniest story. You'll just laugh."

"We'll see," Severus said under his breath.

"I tried your front door, you see, but it was locked, so I went around the back and noticed this ladder-thing—white with vines around the it?—that led to a window. I climbed it, and halfway there my shoe got stuck, so I ended up leaving it behind—I'll be expecting it back, by the way. Then, when I reached the top, I found the window was closed, so I had to climb back down and try the next one. So I stole a ladder from next door—"

"You stole a ladder?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes," Nathaniel replied shortly. "The Jacksons' ladder.

"Anyways," he continued, "when I climbed that, and got to the top, I realized that I couldn't open a window from the outside. I had tried, which resulted in the ladder falling, and I couldn't get down. It was very high up, but … I jumped."

During this explanation, Nathaniel was making wild gestures and motions with his hands—making it all sound foolish and funny to Harry (some parts, at least)—until Nathaniel reached the last part.

"You jumped?" Harry repeated, his voice layered with disbelief.

"To my death," came the reply. "But, as you see, I did not die. I just bruised my leg. And my back. Anyway, I tried to think of another way to get inside, and then … I saw it. The door. The back door. Then, can you believe it? I tried it—and it was open! So _that _is how I got inside to surprise you. Now, isn't that funny?"

Harry stared at Nathaniel, silent in complete shock and disbelief. Did this person, sitting in front of him, completely happy and casual, realize that he could have been seriously injured, _just _to get inside a house? He didn't seem like he cared at all.

"You could have died," Harry pointed out slowly.

"I know," Nathaniel replied simply.

"You could have _died!_" As the words came out of his mouth, Harry had a feeling of déjà vu. Why did those four words sound so familiar? Where did he hear them—

Oh.

"We've established that already," Nathaniel replied. He started to stare oddly at Harry and Severus. Why did Harry have such an uncomfortable look on his face? Why was Snape staring at Harry so? _Why _were they sitting _so _far apart?

"Um …"

"You're pathetic for doing that, Jacobs," Severus said suddenly. He stood.

"Why thank you ever so kindly, Sevvie," Nathaniel said in a sweet voice with a sarcastic smile.

"Nathaniel," Harry said, looking as if he was trying to refrain himself from laughing. "Your parents are magical, right? Why not _Floo _here?"

As Severus, with a long sigh, left the room, Nathaniel stared at Harry blankly.

"I never thought of it at the time," Nathaniel said. "But—I'm here, aren't I? My mother is visiting her sister—Moraine (or Mora)—who lives not long from here. Isn't that funny? My Aunt Mora lives _not long from here_—and I never even knew!"

Nathaniel paused. "I'm starting to regret ever running away," he confessed after a minute. "I've missed a lot of things. My sister, named Mora as well—after my aunt—is _married _and has _kids_; my father's always sleeping and my mother is always mistaken for my _grand_mother. She's fifty-four, which isn't really that old, _is it_? I don't think so. My mother's still sixteen on the inside. But, Harry, d'you realize how many years I've missed? Look at me!"

He gave Harry an upset, sorrowful look and lifelessly held his arms out. "I'm _seventeen. _Right now, do you know how old I'm supposed to be?"

Silently, Harry shook his head.

"I'm supposed to be as old as _Snape!_" Nathaniel replied, sinking into the couch. "I'm supposed to be like … thirty-four! I'm supposed to be married and have kids—just like Mora! I'm a seventeen-year-old uncle that's supposed to be thirty-four."

Harry silently searched for something to say. He didn't feel like talking anymore to Nathaniel; he felt like he should still let Nathaniel speak, to get it all out of his system. He was so upset—was there maybe something Harry could do for Nathaniel, to help him?

"What if I asked Dad if there's something he can give you?" Harry questioned quietly. "A Potion or something to restore you to your full age. You sound like you want it."

Nathaniel expression softened. "Thanks Harry, but as much as I'm complaining about this … I don't really think that I'd want to do that. Of course, I regret turning into a snake and never turning back, but … I want to continue living my life instead of jumping ahead seventeen years. Besides, what would Amaryllis say if, one second I was seventeen, and then the next I was thirty-four? _Besides, _what about _Amaryllis?_"

Nathaniel smiled, shaking his head. "I couldn't leave her behind. So, enough of this subject. Anything exciting happen at Hogwarts this year?"

Harry wondered where to begin. Letting out a breath, Harry started from the first … all the way to the end. Nathaniel sat in silence and listened, not interrupting once.

Finally, when Harry was finished a while later, he spoke. "Why did all the good stuff have to happen when I left?"

Harry smiled. "That's when Nicholas said, too. Except he didn't say that _exactly._"

"Why would Nicholas say that?" Nathaniel inquired. "Didn't you say that that thing only went after Pure-bloods? Isn't … Nicholas …?"

"Nicholas was adopted," Harry answered. "He found out before he was attacked."

"Oh." Nathaniel frowned. "It must be pretty hard. Does he know who his biological parents are?"

Harry shook his head. "It's this sort of mission he wants to go on this summer—to find out who his real parents are. I hope he finds them. He deserves to know his parents—his real ones—and be able to talk to them, and to catch up on stuff."

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "Anything else happen? Anytime … any place …"

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the right as he tried to figure out what Nathaniel meant, since the boy had a tone to his voice that told Harry there was more to what he meant.

"Er—no … What do you mean?"

"What I _mean _is: did some sort of ice form between you and Daddy Sevvie? You just seem so … uncomfortable around each other now. I think I worded that right. Wait, let me guess—did your relatives want you back, and you decided that even underneath their cool, cruel and heartless shell that they are really decent people and you love them and want to go back to them?"

Harry gave him a look of amazement and wonder. He was amazed at Nathaniel because he couldn't find where his friend came up with all these stories and in wonder because he couldn't figure out why Nathaniel would even _think _that.

"No, that's not it at all. Why would the Dursleys want me back, anyways? They've had all the time they needed and never used it—not that I would want to go back, anyway," Harry quickly added. "No, I _want _to stay here. I like it here."

"OK," Nathaniel said. "So, can you tell me why there's this huge, humongous iceberg between you two?"

Harry sighed. "There's no _iceberg _between us. We just … _He's just _angry over—" Harry looked at Nathaniel before sighing again and deciding to tell Nathaniel the truth. "He's just angry because of what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Oh." Nathaniel nodded, looking like he understood. "Because he didn't want you to go? Because it was too dangerous? I see. Has this awkward silence bit been recent?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "About ever since I got back from the Chamber."

"That long?" Nathaniel's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, he certainly was mad, wasn't he?"

Harry nodded silently, looking out the entrance of the living room and into the dining room, where he imagined Severus sitting there drinking whatever he drank in his teacup, contemplating over something.

"So, uh … tell me about this whole Gryffindor/Slytherin thing," Nathaniel said suddenly. "What were their names again?"

Harry averted his gaze from the dining room to Nathaniel. "Isabelle Nixon and Hermione Granger."

Nathaniel nodded. "I see, I see … so what are they? Like, _friends _or just Library Friends?"

Harry let out a short laugh. "A Library Friend? What's that?"

"You know," Nathaniel started. "They're just friends in the library where they read. Or are they actual friends? I suppose you know what _that _means?"

Harry gave Nathaniel a look. "_Yes _I know what that means. And I don't know."

"Oh—_oh!_"

Harry looked down at Nathaniel's lap, where Syther and slithered up onto. Syther snaked across Nathaniel's lap and onto Harry's. Nathaniel watched as Harry communicated with the snake. He was interested in the language—it just sounded … Well, to Nathaniel, it was kind of interesting to listen to.

"What did he ask?" Nathaniel asked Harry as Harry stood up, the snake in his hand.

"He wanted to go outside," Harry replied.

"Oh. Is it safe out there?"

"I would think so," Harry responded. "He's never gone lost before."

"Just checking," responded Nathaniel. "How's your _owl _doing?"

Harry had to laugh. Even though Nathaniel was very much used to his owl, he still never put his dislike for any kind aside.

"_Ember _is fine. She's just sitting over there—see? In her cage. I'm surprised you can sit so close—you must be slowly getting over your dislike for owls."

Nathaniel jumped up, moving to the other side of the room. Unsurprisingly, he had moved farther away from Ember.

"How about I come with you to take your snake outside?"

Harry shrugged, standing up as well. "It won't take very long. I just have to set him on the grass—he likes going outside. Something about the air, I think."

"Well, not taking very long is good," Nathaniel said quickly. "I'd go anywhere with anyone for a millisecond as long as it's _out _of a room with _any _type of owl!"

-

Harry sat upright in bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Nathaniel—who had changed into a snake before going to sleep—was sleeping on the edge of the bed along with Syther. Harry had found out earlier that Nathaniel would be staying for a couple of days.

There was a reason why Harry couldn't go to sleep. A very _good _reason; he just had yet to figure out. Was it because he and Severus had _barely _spoken during the rest of the day? That wouldn't be new to Harry: the angry silence between them had been going on for a while now.

Maybe it was because Harry was sick of it, and wanted to do something about it. Maybe it was because Harry was beginning to realize just why Severus was so mad. _Maybe _it was because … because Harry understood _perfectly well _why Severus was so mad.

For what seemed like three hours, Harry had lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, _awake. _He could not seem to fall asleep. What time was it now? Ten? Eleven?

_What are you doing? _Came a groggy voice. _Go back to sleep. You're bothering us by sitting u-u-u-p … _

Whether it was Nathaniel or Syther who said that, Harry didn't know. The voice had been drowned out by a yawn, and then silence. Harry listened to the footsteps ascending the stairs. He quickly lay back down, closing his eyes. Harry only saw darkness now, but could hear Severus coming into the room.

Then Harry felt it on the top of his head. The first act of affection other than an awkward hug from Severus.

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry felt Severus stand up. Before Harry could even think of something to say, he found himself blurting out, "Wait!"

Harry opened his eyes to look at Severus, who was looking down at Harry with a blank expression. Harry didn't feel gobsmacked anymore over what Severus did, but annoyed at his expression. How could he produce such a blank, impassive expression? He didn't know why, but it made Harry angry.

"I had a feeling you were awake," Severus said. "You _should _be asleep."

"You can never just be honest, can you?" Harry said angrily, sitting up. "You always have to put on some blank expression to cover up just the tiniest bit of _feeling _on your face, don't you?"

There was a moment of silence as Severus looked at Harry—just looked, just for that tiny moment—then said, "Go to sleep, Harry."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. He didn't care that Severus was no longer calling him 'Potter', but he knew that if he didn't say anything now he'd regret it in the morning, and then he and Severus could still possibly be in the curt 'silence'.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, loud enough for Severus to hear as he made his way to the door. He turned around when he reached the doorway.

"I don't think I heard you," Severus said. "Would you repeat that?"

"_I'm sorry,_" Harry said loudly, letting his arms fall down on the bed. He turned his head to face Severus. "I know what it feels like to think that you could've lost someone you cared about, but fortunately didn't."

Harry silently looked down at the snake—also known as Nathaniel—sleeping at the end of the bed.

"And I'm sorry," he continued quietly. "You can still go on not talking to me all you like, but I just want you to know that I don't regret going down to the Chamber of Secrets and saving Isabelle."

After that, Severus silently left. Harry didn't know if Severus was still angry or not, but at least he told Severus the truth.

_At least you tried,_ came Nathaniel's voice. He sounded wide-awake._ Give it some more time, Harry._

Harry lay his head back down on the pillow. He could still feel Severus's kiss on the top of his head. Maybe in the morning this would be better than before, but Nathaniel was right. At least he tried.

-

Harry woke up the next morning to see Nathaniel's blurred figure, in his human form, backing slowly away from Harry's window. Harry put on his glasses to see that it was a tawny owl Nathaniel was backing away from.

"Who's owl?" Harry asked, lifting his glasses up a bit to rub his eyes. "I doubt it's yours."

"I don't know," Nathaniel answered. "I wasn't about to open the window for it though, and I didn't feel like waking you up after what happened last night. Can you just get it away from me?"

"It's not anywhere _near _you," Harry said, getting out of bed to open the window. The owl flew in, landing on Harry's desk. Nathaniel backed up into the door, a disgusted look on his face.

"Who's it from?" Nathaniel asked as Harry read the letter.

"Nicholas," Harry responded. "He says that his brother's getting married in a few days and wants me to come. He says that I can invite someone to go with me since there's not very many people going."

"When is it, again?" Nathaniel questioned, still not moving from the door.

"In a few days. I think he said …" Harry scanned the letter again. "In about five days. Want to go with me?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "I can't. I'm leaving in two days, remember? It gives me one day to spend with Amaryllis and the other day to spend with you, then I have to go home and see my sister in America. We're going there for about a week. I wish I could, though."

"It's OK," Harry said, setting the letter on the desk beside the owl. "I should ask Dad if I can go first. Maybe if we're on better terms with each other he might go with me."

"Well, we should go down to breakfast," Nathaniel said, fiddling with the doorknob. "I'm starving. We'll bring some fish up for your snake, right? Snakes like fish. I liked fish. I'm not too fond of it now—I think I got tired of it. I feel like—"

Harry grinned as he interrupted, "A chocolate éclair?"

Nathaniel grinned, a look of hunger crossing his face. "You read my mind, you know."

-

It was very surprising for Harry to walk down the stairs and be greeted by pleasantness from Severus. It seemed that he was no longer angry at Harry. Did it have something to do with last night, Harry wondered? If it did, _how? _Is apology, _was _after all, quite pathetic. All he had said was, 'I'm sorry,' and that Severus could go on not talking to him, but he didn't really give any explanation as to _why _he was sorry—even though he knew that Severus already knew.

As Harry contemplated over the night before, he began to realize that _maybe _Severus didn't care that all he said was 'I'm sorry' and gave no explanation afterwards, but maybe it was because he had sounded _sincere. _Harry wasn't sure if he had sounded sincere, but he knew that he _felt _sincere at the time.

Well, whatever the reason, Harry was only glad that Severus was speaking again, and no longer referring to him as 'Potter'. He was back to _Harry _again.

Harry went back up the stairs to collect his letter from Nicholas, and after grabbing it off the dresser, descended the stairs. The house sounded a bit silent and deserted without Nathaniel in it, Harry realized as he crossed the hall, hoping to find Severus still in the dining room. Nathaniel was somewhere with Amaryllis for the day.

Harry sighed when he entered the dining room to find it empty. Where was Severus? The house was so big; Harry often wondered if he really knew _every _room inside of it. He also wondered at times how Severus managed around this house before Harry had come by himself. It seemed so _big _to just hold one person.

He eventually found Severus coming through the front door.

"What were you doing?" Harry questioned, the letter still in his hand.

"I'll give you _one _guess." Severus sounded out of breath and slightly irritated. Harry winced. He only had that tone of voice whenever he was dealing with something that had to do with Nathaniel.

"Erm … does it have to do with Nathaniel?" Harry asked out loud.

"And the Jacksons' ladder," he growled. "They wanted to know why it was laying in the backyard."

Harry suppressed a smile. "What did you say?""

"That it must've fell over _into _our backyard. These cursed houses are so close together—of course the Jacksons bought it, and expressed their _deepest _apologies."

Then, Severus crossed the hallway into the living room, where he sat down and started to complain about something under his breath to do with splinters in his hands.

"I can't imagine you carrying a ladder," Harry mused aloud. "Couldn't Mr. Jackson carry it over to his backyard?"

"It was too long," Severus replied. "However, I'm, under any circumstances, never going to do that again. What do you have in your hand?"

"It's a letter from Nicholas," Harry said, holding it up. "His brother's getting married in a few days. Can I go?"

"I don't see why not." Severus studied Harry's face. "There's something else, I assume?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "I want you to go with me."

Severus made a brief face. "To a wedding?"

Harry nodded again, this time more confidently. "Yeah. Nicholas wants me to come two days early—but you don't have to. He just said that I could invite someone to go with me."

"Why not Jacobs? I'm sure he'd be thrilled to attend a wedding, though I see nothing thrilling about one."

"He's leaving before the wedding," Harry answered. "He's going to America with his parents to visit his sister. He hasn't seen her ever since … well, ever since he went to Hogwarts himself, I think."

"I really don't think so," Severus said. "I'm not one for _weddings._ There's too much emotion in one—and too much _getting dressed up._"

"You can wear what you're wearing now!" Harry said quickly, then took in Severus's black robes, giving his head a short shake. "Never mind. If you dress like that, people will think you've mistaken the wedding for a funeral. Will you come, though?" Harry asked, quickly changing his subject after Severus's look. "It'll only be for a while. Not very long at all, I'm sure. I've … never been to a wedding before."

"I am not prohibiting _you _from going, Harry. I'm just declining the invitation to go myself."

"But I _really _want you to go with me!" Harry said.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, saying, "I don't know, I just do. You won't even come with me, if I beg you to?"

"I don't understand why you want me to attend so much."

"Neither do I," Harry admitted. "Please?"

Severus studied Harry's face once more, seeming to Harry that he was taking a very long time in deciding (when really, he only took about a moment before answering).

"Very well."

Harry tilted his head at the two words. "You'll go?"

Severus dipped his head once in a nod.

Harry grinned, feeling like he was very successful in doing something. Standing up, Harry went out of the living room and up the staircase to put the letter from Nicholas away. In a few days, Harry would be getting ready for the first wedding he could ever remember going to.

-

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	19. Ending

**Chapter Ten**

In two days, just as was planned, Nathaniel left to go to America with his parents to visit his sister Mora. The two following days were much quieter than the previous ones with Nathaniel in them (Severus seemed kind of relieved about that), but somehow to Harry, without all the noise, the house seemed _empty. _

Finally it was time for Harry to go to Nicholas's. He was going to his friends house a day earlier than the actual wedding—Nicholas had suggested it. He asked if Harry felt like getting things for the wedding ready (his brothers fiancée wanted _all _of the decorations set up exactly _one _day early. She wanted everything homemade, which did include the said decorations).

Severus was to come to Nicholas's house after supper just to get a suit for the wedding, but insisted that he didn't stay the night, but right after getting a suit, go straight back to the manor. Nobody had argued with it.

Nicholas's house was fairly large, and very nice. Everything seemed to be placed _exactly_; that was something that Nicholas complained about. For instance, he had said to Harry, the candlesticks on the fireplace were _both _five inches apart.

Other than that, everything else seemed pretty nice, even his parents. Although, if you first glanced at them you would think that they would be a prim, snobby, fastidious, no-nonsense type of person—and though at times they were—they were actually very nice people at times (if you got on their good side).

The marriage between Scott Nixon and Sophie Harmoth seemed to be something Nicholas's parents were very proud of, and easily liked to brag about. Although Harry heard them several times say since he arrived that "They always wanted their eldest son to marry a witch, but a muggle (especially like Sophie) would do. That perhaps when Nicholas gets older he would marry a witch."

Since then, Harry had wondered why Sophie was an exception. When Harry met her, however, he realized that (although at times she was _very _much chipper), she was just as snobby and fastidious as Nicholas's parents sometimes were.

Harry sat in front of Nicholas at the kitchen table, listening to his friend complain about having Sophie Harmoth as a sister-in-law.

Just then, the chipper brunette appeared around the corner, singing something under her breath. Harry glanced curiously at Nicholas, who leaned across the table and whispered to Harry, "That's Scott's—my brother—fiancée. Listen to what she's singing under her breath."

Harry felt like holding his breath as he tried to listen intently to what the girl was singing, but decided against it. Finally, as the girl passed them to go into the cupboard, Harry caught what she was saying:

"_Going to the chapel and we're, gonna get married, going to the chapel of love. Gee I really love you and we're gonna get married—._"

When Harry looked back at Nicholas, he saw the boy grinning.

"Of all the Muggle songs, eh? If it were me getting married, and somehow—I mean _somehow_—I started singing Muggle songs, I think it would really be—oh, what was that song?—oh—'Play That Funky Music White Boy'."

Just then, the girl emerged from the cupboard, holding a jar of Peanut Butter in her hands. Harry still heard her singing, "_Gonna get married, going to the chapel of love_," under her breath still.

Nicholas leaned over to Harry, whispering, "I swear I'm going to start singing that song to show her just how annoying it is—until Sophie quits singing _that _song."

Of course, Harry knew that Nicholas wouldn't actually do that, but it was fun to hear Nicholas threatening to do so.

Nicholas stood up and poured himself a cup of water, and as he stood by Sophie pouring it, he looked visibly annoyed. He went back over to the table and sat down, taking an angry sip of the water.

Just as Sophie reached them, Nicholas looked down at his drink, muttering something that Harry couldn't hear.

Harry put a hand to his mouth to cover his smile as Sophie's lips stopped moving, and she faced Nicholas, who was staring down at his own drink, obviously trying to cover up his own smile.

"Is there any reason _why _you said that, Nicholas?" Sophie questioned in a rather demanding voice. Finally, Nicholas looked up, palpably trying to keep a straight face while shaking his head.

"Oh, no, no reason at all, Sis. Shall I call you that? Or would you rather Sister Sophie? I think the second one sounds better, in my opinion, but that's just me."

Sophie glared at Nicholas. "You know, I think _Mrs. _Sophie _Nixon _would be a good name to call me. Don't you think? It just _rolls _off the tongue."

Nicholas glared at Sophie as she walked out of the kitchen. Pure dislike was written all over his face, and after that he grew very grumpy.

"I don't see why Scott fancies her so much," Nicholas said. "She's so snobbish. She hates all of us, except for Scott, that is. You know what? I bet she doesn't even like _him!_ The only thing good about her is that she's easy to look at."

"If she doesn't like Scott, like you say, why is she marrying him?"

"Well, I was just _saying _that it's _possible _that she doesn't like him. She's probably only marrying him because he's a wizard. Thinks that she'd be able to get whatever she wants or something," Nicholas muttered. "You know what? She—_Isabelle_!"

Harry turned his head to the side. Nicholas's sister, Isabelle (who was holding a cup of juice), jumped as Nicholas suddenly yelled her name. Juice fell over the side of her cup onto the floor.

"_What?" _

"You tell Harry the story," Nicholas said, glancing at the mess on the floor. "I'll clean that up. I can't tell it as good as you."

"How can I tell a story good?" Isabelle frowned. "I bet I tell it just as good as you."

"Just tell it," Nicholas snapped, still in a grumpy mood from before. He grabbed a towel off the counter and set it on the floor over the juice, letting it soak before completely wiping the floor.

"Fine. Well … after I came home from Hogwarts I went up to my room, and passed the guest room where Sophie was staying. She was talking to her friend … I forget her name … and said that she was thinking of _dumping _Scott—"

"Later that day," Nicholas interrupted, putting the cloth on the counter and going back over to his chair, "Scott told dear Sophie that he was a wizard, and then he proposed to her when she accepted that fact. _Surprisingly,_" … was said very sarcastically … "Sophie said yes to Scott's proposal. Do you see them still together? _Yes. _That's my theory why they still are. Scott's too dumb and Sophie … she's just _her._"

"You said that very well," Isabelle said. "You didn't need me."

"You're right, I didn't," Nicholas said with a grin. "Bye."

Isabelle tried to give him a dirty glare, and she succeeded for a second before breaking out into a smile. She took a large sip of the rest of the water, as if trying to cover it. Silently she left.

Nicholas sighed. "Hopefully this wedding doesn't go through. I want my brother to be happy, but … not with her. I'm surprised my mother _approves _of this marriage. I swear ever since we were born she's wanted me and Scott to marry _appropriate _witches, though I don't get the 'appropriate' part. She wants Isabelle to marry a wizard. She doesn't have anything against Muggles, I don't think, I just think she wants everything to be pure."

There was a short pause before Nicholas continued. "That was all before I found out that I was adopted. That I'm not a pure-blood."

"Your parents knew that right when they adopted you, though," Harry pointed out. "It's not like _they _just found out."

Nicholas shrugged. "I guess so."

"Did you … find your biological parents yet?" Harry asked tentatively.

Nicholas shook his head. "No. I want to, but somehow my _parents _don't want me to. I don't understand why they don't want me to find my real parents. Maybe they're afraid that if I do find them that I'll leave—" His voice dropped down low, "—which actually isn't a bad idea …"

Harry frowned. "What?"

Nicholas sighed, finishing the rest of his drink. "I think, if I found my biological parents … I would go with them. I mean, anywhere must be better than here. It's not bad, and I love my p—erm … people?" he let out a small laugh. "See, I don't even know what to call them. I suppose just 'parents' would do. But ... I don't know. Is it wrong to say that? That if I had the chance I'd leave them?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know what to say, because I live with Severus and I don't think I'd ever want to leave. Now, if I was still at the Dursleys I could see where you're coming from … but surely your parents weren't as bad as my aunt and uncle."

"No, they probably aren't," Nicholas replied. "Let's get off this, shall we? Why don't we go see if we can help with anything. Oh, wait—should we go get our suits now so we don't have to do it later?" Nicholas shuddered. "Sorry. I'm really dreading wearing a _tux, _though."

"We should wait for Severus," Harry said. "He's not going to like going out for one of those, but …"

"All right," Nicholas agreed. He looked more cheerful than before—that is, until Sophie came back into the room. She wasn't singing the song she was singing before, Harry noticed, but—

"_Sadie, Sadie, married lady, meet a mortgagee …_"

-

After supper, Harry, Nicholas, Nicholas's mother (Clairice) and Severus went out to buy a dress and a tux for the wedding the next day. It was easy for the tuxes—but what took the longest was for Clairice Nixon to find a simple dress.

For what seemed like hours after, Clairice finally found an appropriate dress. Severus refused to stay any longer, so he flooed back to the manor when they returned to Nicholas's home.

"That was the most exhausting night of my life," Nicholas moaned, throwing himself down on the couch in the living room. He opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly sat up as Isabelle flew into the room, a large white dress in her hands, almost knocking Harry over.

"Upstairs," Isabelle said, breathing heavily. "Upstairs, upstairs!"

"What about upstairs?" Nicholas asked, standing up. "You OK?"

"It's _Scott!_" Isabelle took in a few deep breaths, ignoring Nicholas's funny look he gave her. "_Scott's upstairs with Paisley!_"

"Paisley?" Nicholas repeated, frowning. "Who's Paisley?"

Isabelle threw her arms up in the air. "_Paisley Karson!_ Don't tell me you don't remember who Paisley Karson is?"

"Ohhhhh," Nicholas said suddenly, nodding his head. "Yes, yes. Paisley's the one who went to Hogwarts with Scott. They were friends, weren't they? I remember she used to tease all three of us of being a sin."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well, because if you put the first letter of each of our name in a certain order it spells 'sin'. Scott, Isabelle and Nicholas," Nicholas explained. "Recently Paisley and Scott haven't really been talking. Didn't she get engaged or something?"

Isabelle nodded, now looking eager. "Yes, but oh Nicholas, listen! I went upstairs to go put my dress that Sophie gave me in the closet for tomorrow, and I passed Scott's room and I heard voices talking. Well … a girl was crying, and I thought it was Scott saying that he didn't want to marry Sophie, and that the girl crying _was _Sophie—"

"Is it?" Nicholas interrupted. "Please tell me it was."

Sadly, Isabelle shook her head. "It was Paisley, Nicholas. She broke the engagement off, and she … well, she wanted to be with our brother. Can you believe that Scott said it was too late? She's probably gone now … but …"

Nicholas gave Harry a look. "Didn't I tell you Scott was dumb? He should've went with Paisley."

"I don't know whether she's coming to the wedding or not. She probably won't," Isabelle said. "But, Scott did invite her when he and Sophie first got engaged." She glanced down at her hands. "I better go put this in my room. Sophie's going to teach me how to be a _proper flower girl_. Do you know she says she wishes that I weren't the flower girl because they are usually no younger than five, and not older than nine or ten? She says I was her only option."

-

The next morning, the day of the wedding, had started out hectic. Everyone had slept in, including Sophie, since her alarm clock had mysteriously lost its batteries (Nicholas had been pretty cheerful last night …) and she didn't wake until around eleven o'clock.

Sophie had wanted the wedding to be _exactly _at one o'clock, and since she had woken up at eleven, she said two hours was _not _enough time.

Harry had awoken to a lot of yelling and banging, both coming from Nicholas, who had tripped over something on the floor and fell.

"You're awake," Nicholas said as he stood up, rubbing his chest. "Sorry, I forgot to wake you earlier. Get up quickly, Harry; Sophie wants _everyone _dressed right now. I don't know why she wants us dressed in our _tuxes and dresses _so early. Maybe it's because girls take a lot longer to get ready than guys do, don't you find? Anyways—_get ready! _She'll be checking in on us she said in fifteen minutes."

Everything went well until they came to the tie. How were you suppose to tie it? Both Harry and Nicholas found it impossible.

As he was trying to tie his tie, Nicholas looked up as the door opened. A slender girl was standing in the doorway. She had long, brown hair which curled at the ends and pale, dull eyes. She had a long, sleeveless, ivory colored dress on that looked limp on her.

"Paisley," Nicholas said, forgetting about his bowtie. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for the wedding," she said in an emotionless voice, walking over to Nicholas. She started to tie his bowtie that he was having trouble with. "You look nice, Nicholas. Poor Isabelle looks like a giant white cotton ball."

"I can imagine," Nicholas said with a snort. He looked down at the bowtie after Paisley had finished. "These are so complicated."

"Sometimes," Paisley said, moving on to Harry. "So, Nicholas, who's idea was it to have the wedding in the backyard?"

"Sophie," Nicholas said, making a face.

Paisley nodded, looking impassive as she finished with Harry's bowtie. "It's a nice place. Your backyard's beautiful. There you go—you both look like fine gentlemen."

For the first time since Paisley had arrived in the room, a smile flickered on her face. "I better go help the bride get ready. Her bridesmaid are late, and so are the groomsmen and the best man."

"It's a sign," Nicholas said firmly as Paisley left. "Don't you think? That the wedding shouldn't go through?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know if it was a 'sign' or not, but he _did _know that the whole wedding was becoming very interesting.

-

"Where are they?" Sophie was heard shrieking through the entire house. "They're supposed to _be _here! Where the _hell _are they?"

"They're probably late," Clairice said in a gentle voice. "Hush. Now, take a look at yourself, Sophie. Don't you look gorgeous?"

Sophie scowled. "I _always _do. I just look better than usual. I think it's this gown—it's very slimming."

Nicholas and Harry passed Sophie's room where she was getting ready, and went down to the kitchen. They both sat down in chairs surrounding the table.

"I hope this wedding will be over with soon," Nicholas said, a grumpy expression on his face. "This suit is starting to bug me. Sophie is starting to bug me. This _wedding _is _still _bugging me." Nicholas sighed. "Come on, let's go out to the backyard. The guests are already coming now. Is your Dad coming, too?"

"He should be," Harry said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he decided not to come; I really don't think weddings are something he'd do, but I asked him to come …"

"And I'm here, just as you requested."

Harry looked up and grinned. "Good; hi. We were just about to go outside with the rest of the guests, and—you managed to tie your tie?"

"_Yes,_" Severus said, looking irritated. "It was _very _complicated. I wish to never do it again. I'm actually not fond of this whole suit, either."

When they went outside, they saw that already some of the guests had took their seats. Severus and Harry sat in the row behind Nicholas.  
After a few moments, rest of the guests arrived and sat down. Paisley was one of them; she sat next to Harry.

"How are you doing?" she asked. "I never got your name. I'm Paisley Karson."

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter-Snape," Harry responded.

"Potter-Snape, you say?" Paisley said, glancing at Harry's forehead before looking back into Harry's eyes. "Nice to meet you." She glanced at Severus beside Harry, give him a courteous nod. "Professor Snape."

Severus nodded back. "Ms. Karson. Must I point out that I am no longer your Professor?"

Paisley didn't smile, nor did she frown. She just remained expressionless. "It sounds much more politer, sir."

She looked back as someone from the house began to yell, "Miss Paisley! Miss Paisley!"

"Excuse me."

Paisley stood and went into the house. A while later she returned, sitting down exactly where she sat before and looked straightforward.

"Did you notice," Harry said to Severus in a low voice, "that every male here is wearing a tux? Do they usually wear these to _every _wedding?"

It was Paisley who leaned forward towards Harry and answered, "Not always. Sophie Harmoth just _insisted _that every male person attending the wedding wear a tux—young or old. I heard her saying this to Mrs. Nixon, that she hoped they were wearing the tuxes."

"Oh," Harry replied. Mr and Mrs. Nixon and arrived and now sat in front of Harry. He could hear a few sighs of irritation from Severus, and he then knew that Severus _really _wasn't one for weddings. At least it was starting now.

The groom was already at the front, and the bridesmaids began to walk down the aisle, looking pretty and graceful. Then came Isabelle, fitting Paisley's description of a giant cotton ball perfectly. Her face was a deep shade of red as she walked down the aisle.

Then a slow tune began to play from someone, who Nicholas had said was his cousin. There was a silence from everybody as Nicholas's cousin immediately stopped, looking more red than Isabelle did. Then Harry realized that she had played the funeral march instead of the wedding march. After her mistake, she began to play the right march.

Sophie came on her fathers arm, shining and smiling at all of the guests and just looking delicate and pretty. Beside Harry, Paisley did not flinch or stiffen; she didn't even smile. She just _looked _at the bride passing her.

Harry watched as Sophie arrived beside Scott. Harry took his eyes off the couple and decided to look at Nicholas, who was slouched in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though Harry could only see the back of Nicholas's head, Harry could tell that a displeased frown was on his friends face.

"Dearly beloved," started the preacher, "we are gathered today to join Sophia Harmoth and Scott Nixon in holy matrimony."

_Sophia? _Harry wondered. _I thought her name was just _Sophie. _Hm. _

"Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?"

"I do," spoke _Sophia_'s father as he briefly stood.

"Sophia and Scott are very honoured that each of you are here to witness the beginning of their new life together," the preacher continued. "Let us begin."

Harry listened as the rest of the wedding went on. He wasn't exactly paying attention, but then, Harry could sense that beside him, Paisley wasn't either. Harry quickly glanced at her, and saw that she was staring ahead, but didn't seem to be staring at Scott and Sophie. She seemed to be staring into space, lost in her own thoughts.

Harry tuned back in to hear the preacher say, "This marriage can only be created by loving purpose, be maintained by abiding will and be bonded together by your love for one and another."

Then came the question that made Harry stiffen and look directly at Nicholas, who, as the preacher spoke, began to fidget.

"If there is anyone present, who knows of any just cause why this couple may not be lawfully joined in marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

There was a long silence between bride and groom and the guests. Nicholas still fidgeted in his seat, and beside Harry, Paisley sat completely still, hands clasped in her lap. Her lips were set in a thin line.

"If you, Sophia," the preacher continued, "and you, Scott, have freely and deliberately chosen each other as partners in this holy estate, and you know of no just cause why you may not be so united—"

"I—I object!"

Harry had thought, at first, that it was Paisley who said this. But she still sat completely still next to him. Looking up, Harry saw, to his surprise, that it was Nicholas. He stood, his hands shaking at his sides. His parents were looking at him with a look of utter horror. Isabelle looked like she was about to laugh, Sophia had turned three shades of red and Paisley continued sitting quietly beside Harry.

"Honey," Clairice said, her voice projecting as much horror as her expression. "The wedding won't stop for an objection unless there's a legal reason. Now, sit down and stop embarrassing yourself!"

"But—but you have to!" Nicholas insisted, pulling his arm out of his mothers' grasp. "He can't marry _her!_"

"Sit down," Sophie hissed, loud enough for Nicholas to hear. "You're just embarrassing yourself, as your mother said."

"What about _her?_" Nicholas pointed to Paisley, who then started to squirm and stare at her folded hands in her lap. She didn't say anything, but remained looking at her lap. It looked like Nicholas wasn't about to stop the wedding.

Finally Clairice was able to pull her son back down in his chair. His shoulders sagged, and his arms remained crossed over his chest.

"Will you … join your right hands—"

Scott broke the preacher off. "I'm sorry—I can't marry you—"

Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Nicholas straighten in his chair. He was actually surprised at what Nicholas's brother said himself.

"You can't _what?_" Sophie's voice was low and deadly. "Why _can't _you marry me? Nobody's holding you back … unless—"

"If you're thinking that my brother has anything to do with my decision," Scott interrupted coldly, "you're wrong."

He walked back into the house before Sophie could say anything. Harry watched in amusement as Sophie clenched her fists together then stomped her feet, _hard, _on the ground. When she straightened she seemed to be leaning towards one side. There was some laughter from the audience as one by one they realized that when she stomped her foot on the ground she snapped her heel off. Even Severus had a look of amusement written across his face.

"I'm sorry that you came for _no _wedding, after all," Nicholas said with a sigh as he walked Harry, Severus and the rests of the guests inside.

Harry shrugged. "S'ok. It was interesting."

Nicholas grinned half-heartedly. "I suppose so. Scott's going to be grumpy for a while, so that's not really good. My parents will be pretty angry at me for objecting" … here he grew red in the face … "but I'm sure they'll get over it. So; pretty good for your first time attending a wedding?"

Harry nodded, grinning. "Yeah. Lotta stuff happened that was … well … pretty interesting."

Nicholas grinned back. "The bright side was that I got to see my sister dressed up as a cotton ball. Er ... You and Professor Snape can _leave _after the rest of the guests leave."

"Good," Severus muttered. "I don't like weddings."

"Hm," Harry said, giving Severus a sideways glance. He tried not to smile. "You know, I don't think I would've ever guessed that."

-

Later that night, Harry sat in his room in front of his desk.The past few days he had been thinking about why a rat without a toe seemed so familiar, then only earlier today he had realized that he had heard of it from Sirius all those years ago—and then he thought about the rat that belonged to Ron Weasley. The one he had found a while back…

Even though Sirius was gone, Harry could at least try to prove that he was innocent. It was the least Harry could do for his godfather: Proving his innocence.

-

A/N: Thanks; R and R!


	20. Part Three

**A/N**-Thanks! Here's Part Three!

**Disclaimer-**Not mine. Funny how two simple words can just _explain, _right, lol?

**Part 3/7**

**-**

**Chapter One**

Harry had thought that his letter to Remus Lupin was useless, since Hogwarts had started up again and _still _he had no reply. Harry, somehow, wasn't exactly that surprised though. He hadn't spoken to the older man for years, and never really did ever forgive him either.

Luckily Scott Nixon's second wedding was able to take his mind off it.

Yes, Scott Nixon _had _gotten married again, but not to Sophie Harmoth. It seemed ever since Scott had called off their wedding, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Scott was actually getting married to Paisley. It had been a casual wedding in a church—very simple, and Nicholas actually approved of this marriage.

"Paisley is a very nice person," he had said, nodding his head in approval. "A bit plain, Mother says, and _very _quiet, but 'at least she's a witch. And a Slytherin, too'. You can hardly tell she's a Slytherin, though. It seemed that when she went to school she was very snobby and outspoken, but can you see how she is now? Funny, isn't it?"

Severus had went with Harry again, too, even though he had said after Scott and Sophie's ... er ... _wedding _that he would never attend another one. He didn't wear the tux again, but his normal robes that he usually wore (he didn't wear black, though; instead he decided to wear green ones). Nobody questioned the _robes, _though, since Harry suspected that the small gathering of people that were there were all wizards and witches.

Harry had spent the next two days after the Scott and Paisley's wedding at Nicholas's house, and since they were to return to Hogwarts so soon, he had went on the Hogwarts Express with Nicholas, as well.

"Hermione Granger," Nicholas said politely as he and Harry went into the same compartment as Hermione Granger and Isabelle. "Have to say I'm a bit surprised to see … this."

Isabelle shrugged. "No other compartments were left; we both had to go in this one with what … looks like a Professor."

"Defence Against The Dark Arts, probably," Nicholas said, plopping down in the seat behind the said Professor. "But I wasn't talking about the compartment. I was talking about the two of you, looking so friendly in public. Hey—he's sleeping, is he? Hah … Isabelle, what do you think Mother would say about you and a Gryffindor being friends?"

A brief, worried look crossed her face, but then she shrugged. "I don't _care _what Mother would say."

Nicholas grinned. "Oh, not _caring _what Mother would say, huh?"

"She was about to let Scott marry a Muggle!"

"Yes, but Sophie acted just like she did. All firm and perfect—"

"You guys are getting loud," Harry said with a laugh. "You'll probably wake him up—who is 'he', anyways?"

"Remus J. Lupin," Hermione offered, finally speaking for the first time since Harry and Nicholas entered.

"Remus Lupin?" Harry repeated in pure surprise, looking at the man again. It was too bad his arm was covering his face; he wasn't able to get that good of a look at the face with his arm covering it so.

"You know him?" Nicholas questioned.

"Yeah, I do," Harry said. "I know him pretty well. He used to be friends with my Dad. I—I didn't know he was teaching at Hogwarts this year."

"He was Professor Snape's friend?" Hermione spoke. She seemed to be getting a bit used to them now—or at least, them being _Slytherins_.

"No, my _real _Dad—James Potter," Harry replied. He looked at Remus Lupin again. He couldn't really get over that this may just be him.

-

It actually _was_ Remus Lupin who was sharing the same compartment as them. When he awoke, he said hi to all of them—even to Harry. Just hi. Harry had awkwardly responded to the "Hi" with a Hi of his own.

In the Great Hall, Isabelle had tried to get Hermione to sit with them at the Slytherin table, but Hermione had refused. Then Isabelle had offered to go over to the Gryffindor table, but Hermione said no to that, too. It turned out that she wasn't ready for _that _yet.

"I don't understand," Isabelle had said, pouting as she sat beside Nicholas. "I thought she didn't care that I was in Slytherin?"

"Maybe it's not _her_," Nicholas suggested. "Ever think of the other Gryffindors?"

"This is _so _complicated," Isabelle moaned.

Then, the first-years came in and began to get sorted. Each house clapped loudly as one of the students got sorted into that house. Then—

"Davy Brighton."

Why did Severus visibly straighten when that name was called? Harry had wondered this since Davy Brighton's name was called. He was sorted into Gryffindor.

But this Davy Brighton couldn't of been any relation to Severus; Davy Brighton looked nothing like the Potions master. He had light brown hair and vivid blue eyes; definitely not a Severus look-a-like.

"You OK?" Nicholas asked, leaning towards Harry. He nudged his friend in the side with his elbow. "If you're wondering why we haven't seen any sign of Draco yet, it's because he's up near the front of the table with Crabbe and Goyle."

"No, that's not it," Harry responded, though remembered that at one point he had noticed and questioned Draco's absence. "I just … it's nothing. Never mind."

"All right," Nicholas replied shortly. "Tell me when you want to …"

The rest of the feast went well. The food, as usual, was very good—and it turned out that Remus Lupin _was _teaching at Hogwarts: Defence Against The Dark Arts.

Neither Severus or Remus made any eye contact with Harry during the feast, however, until Remus had approached Harry after said feast and had instructed Harry to follow him.

"I want to talk to you, Harry," Remus said quietly as Harry followed Remus down to his chambers. "You look so much older than the last time I saw you."

"It's been a while," Harry answered uncomfortably. "So... I'm here, what did you want me for?"

Harry searched Remus's face as a mixture of emotions bubbled to the surface. Guilt was the one that clearly stood out to Harry.

"I got your letter," Remus explained softly. "You were completely right Harry. The Weasleys' rat, Scabbers? Wasn't a rat—" Remus sighed, slowly sitting himself down on the couch as Harry stood in front of him. Remus's hands held his head up.

"You were right," Remus repeated. "It wasn't Sirius that betrayed your parents—it wasn't—and what have I done?"

"Sirius is gone," Harry said in a quiet voice, reality hitting him hard. Peter Pettigrew was found, Sirius would've had his freedom, he would've been_ free—_yet, reality was... he was dead. Sirius was—

"I should've listened to you." Remus's voice startled Harry. Lifting his head from his hands, Remus gave Harry an upset look. "Why didn't I? Harry, if I could go back in time and change all of it... I would—"

"I have to go," Harry announced suddenly, backing away from Remus. "I've got to..."

-

The next morning, Nicholas had found Harry rather quiet during breakfast. He was just staring at the bowl of porridge in front of him, his right hand holding the spoon that was still inside the bowl, but wasn't lifting it to eat it; his hand was just resting upon it, and his eyes seemed fixed on the porridge.

"Something wrong?" Nicholas finally asked Harry, who gave him a brief glance.

"Nope."

"Oh." Nicholas was about to leave it at that, but decided not to. "You sure? You're awful quiet. Is it because Draco didn't talk to us yesterday? He's probably just _busy, _Harry. That or still a bit angry over losing that Dobby."

"It's _not _about Draco," Harry snapped. "Can't you see that I don't want to talk about this with you?"

"Fine, _don't,_" Nicholas said, scowling at Harry and turning away.

And Harry didn't, until the _Daily Prophet _arrived for Nicholas. Then all Harry said was, "It'll explain it all in there."

Icily, Nicholas looked at Harry. "_What _are you talking about?"

"You'll see it," Harry said impatiently. "Just start reading it."

Nicholas gave Harry a weird look, was about to ask _what _it was he was suppose to read, then decided against it and slowly lowered his eyes down onto the _Daily Prophet. _He started flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning each page; moving back and forth until—

"Oh."

This was said from Nicholas, who Harry suspected just read what Harry _knew _would be in the _Prophet_.

"So _this _is what it's all about?" Nicholas asked, glancing up at Harry. "Where it says here, "_Sirius Black: Innocent After __All. _But... it says here that he was already given the Dementers Kiss years ago. Wow, too bad. Well, at least Pettigrew's away in Azkaban, huh?"

"That's not the point," Harry said quietly. "Sirius Black was my godfather. I tried to tell them that he was innocent... they wouldn't listen, and then they—"

Nicholas stared at Harry, who couldn't finish his sentence, blankly. "Oh." He seemed to surprised to say anything else. Then, he started to nod his head in understanding.

"I'm sorry," Nicholas added softly.

Now, both had forgotten completely about their breakfast.

"It's fine." Then, Harry shook his head, scowling. "No, it's not fine!" He contradicted himself. "Sirius should be _alive _now."

"I know. But what can we do?"

"There has to be something," Harry muttered, giving his head a shake. "A spell, to bring back somebody from the dead?"

Nicholas let out a small moan. "Harry, no... if there was, everybody would be doing it, and it's not right."

"It's not fair though," Harry said, his voice remaining quiet.

"Eat up, Harry. We have Potions," Nicholas said uncomfortably, finding nothing else appropriate to say.

-

A/N:I will try to post the next chapter earlier than usual, if I can. Thanks again, please R + R !


	21. Davy Brighton

**Chapter Two**

"So," Nicholas said casually during supper one night, "what subjects did you choose for this year?"

Harry tried not to smile, since Nicholas had already asked that once before—but, before he could reply, someone from Gryffindor had just approached them. Both exchanged glances before looking at the first-year in that stood in front of them; his chin held high and his bright eyes shining, though he had a scowl on his face. Everybody that had noticed this strange encounter began to stare.

"I'm Davy Brighton," the boy said, speaking in a cool and icy voice. "You must be Harry Potter."

"Er—" Harry was too shocked that he didn't bother correcting the boy over his error of Harry's surname. "Yeah. What do you want?"

"To meet you," Davy said immediately. "I've heard a bit about you from, erm—_Professor Snape. _I thought I'd just see what he meant by you being such a 'pain in the arse'—his words, remember, not mine!"

Harry now scowled at the first-year. "I'm going to ask you one more time: _What do you want?_"

"Oh, don't get angry," Davy Brighton said, giving a brief, nervous smile. "Don't worry, you don't seem like a pain in the arse to me, Harry Potter. I should go. I have Potions in the morning—it's my favorite subject, you know. Bye."

Harry watched as Davy Brighton followed the rest of the Gryffindor first-years out of the Great Hall. Then, his eyes coldly turned towards Severus, who sat, simply staring at the scene. Harry couldn't see his expression, but he was sitting rather still.

"C'mon, Nicholas," Harry said gruffly, resuming walking.

"What was that?" Nicholas said, jogging to catch up with Harry. "Wasn't that Davy Brighton in Gryffindor? How does he know Professor Snape … other than when he attends his classes?"

"I don't know," Harry said shortly.

"Is he Professor Snape's biological son?" Nicholas inquired. "I hope not. They look nothing alike, and isn't his surname _Brighton? _Wouldn't it be 'Snape'?"

"I don't know!" Harry snapped. "Stop asking questions, Nicholas. Can't we just _go _to the common room without _talking _for _once?_"

And they did.

-

Severus really wasn't surprised that Harry spent the rest of the next day not talking to him at all. He didn't do that well in Potions that day, either—well, _that _wasn't much of a surprise, but he didn't do _as _good in that class as he usually did.

Severus knew that, at some point, he should tell Harry who Davy Brighton is; though he _wanted _to prolong it for just a bit more, he knew that he couldn't. Especially after what happened the night before at the feast, even though he couldn't hear what was said between Davy and Harry. But after the cool look that he had received from Harry afterwards, he knew that it wasn't very good.

But, Harry refused to see him that night. He tried not to get too angry when he learned that Harry spent the night that Severus had requested to see him visiting Remus Lupin instead. Somehow, Harry and Lupin began talking a bit more since Lupin started working at Hogwarts.

On Saturday, Harry still did not come to Severus's chambers at the time that he usually did to complete whatever homework he had, or simply just to talk and check in on that snake of his that was always in the spare bedroom in Severus's chambers. So, Severus had decided to personally get Harry, who was probably finishing up his breakfast (slower than usual …) in the Great Hall. Severus wasn't feeling that particularly hungry that morning, which was why he hadn't bothered going to the great hall.

Severus took no notice of the fair-haired first-year that was running towards him, but he did stop when the said first-year had called out to Severus, making him cringe.

"_Yes?_"

"Nothing," Davy Brighton said as he caught up to Severus. He looked cheerful that morning. "I just wanted to say Hi. You know, I haven't seen you in the _longest _time! I've got loads to tell you!"

"Some other time," Severus said shortly. "I actually have to get someone. Perhaps later, Mr. Brighton."

"Oh." The happiness seemed at once drained from Davy's face. "Harry Potter? Yes, I would think so …"

"Good day," Severus said briefly, before walking on towards the Great Hall doors. He was stopped once again when Davy called out: "Mother died."

"Excuse me?"

Davy nodded, looking saddened. "Yeah. She died a few years ago. I've been staying with Grandma now, that's why Mum hadn't returned the last message you sent her. Grandma forbade me to write back and tell you. I don't find it fair that she didn't let you come to the funeral, either!"

"_Good day, _Mr. Brighton," Severus said stonily before taking a step forward away from the boy, but Davy didn't seem to understand that 'Good day' meant that Severus no longer wished to continue the conversation.

"Uncle _Sev!_"

Severus cringed once again. "I have something I need to attend to, Mr. Brighton," he said, slowly turning around to face his nephew. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion at a later time, but at _this _time I need to have a talk with my son. So if you _don't_ mind."

A cool expression crossed Davy's face. "Fine; I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Oh, the sarcasm that had come out laced within those words!

"For telling Harry Potter what you wrote in the very last letter that you sent Mum about him. I didn't mean for it to come out," Davy added quickly. "I was just … saying that … Bye!"

Quickly, Davy turned around and headed in the other direction. What had that cursed boy said to Harry? What had _he _said to his late sister about Harry? He didn't even remember _ever _writing to that girl, especially about Harry.

He had turned around to start towards the Great Hall again, when Nicholas Nixon and Harry had then emerged. Harry stopped in surprise, staring at the Potions master, then his eyes clouded with bitterness, and never spoke.

"I'd like to speak with you," Severus said briefly to Harry, who avoided making any eye contact. "If you will."

"I can't," Harry said, only _fleetingly _looking into Severus's eyes before averting them again.

"And just _why _can't you?"

"Nicholas and I are going to Hogsmeade," came Harry's reply. "It's—ahhh …"

Severus tried not to let his sarcastic smile show, since he knew that Harry realized that he knew that this weekend wasn't the Hogsmeade weekend; it was at the end of October.

"If you would follow me," Severus said curtly.

Harry let out a small sigh, said a barely audible 'bye' to Nicholas, then slowly began to follow Severus, wordlessly, towards where Harry guessed, his chambers. It wasn't as if Severus would have this discussion with Harry in the middle of the corridor—Harry knew that Severus found his chambers the most private place to have a serious conversation.

Still, Harry soundlessly continued to follow Severus until they reached the entrance, then went through the portrait of the serpent and into the chambers.

Harry didn't immediately talk to Severus, nor vice versa. Instead, Harry seated himself on the couch, still remaining silent. He was still angry over what Davy Brighton had said, but he didn't exactly know why. How did Davy Brighton know that Severus had 'said' this, anyway? What if he simply made it up, for some unknown reason? What if he was completely angry at Severus for nothing?

"So … what did you want?" Harry said, finally deciding to speak. He didn't turn around to look at Severus, but waited for the Potions master to slowly cross the room and stand in front of Harry, wearing a serious look.

"What do you _think _I want to speak with you about?" Severus said. "You know very well what. Does this have anything to do with a certain _annoying _first-year named Davy Brighton?"

"What do _you _think?" Harry sighed, wiping the glare that he was giving off of his face. He had decided that he wasn't going to get angry, or let his temper get the better of him, but it seemed like he wasn't doing that good a job of it …

"Is it true, what Davy Brighton said?" Harry finally asked, looking up.

"Well, I didn't exactly hear the whole conversation between the two of you, did I?" Severus said sarcastically. "So I wouldn't be able to tell you whether or not Mr. Brighton was lying, unless you _tell _me what he said. Then, perhaps, I could tell you."

"Well … he …" And then, suddenly, he felt foolish. For some reason that was unbeknownst to Harry, he felt _foolish. _So, he tried to ignore the question he had just asked, and decided upon: "What is Davy to you, Dad? Is he … your … so—relative?"

For a minute, Harry was about to say 'son', which Harry doubted Davy Brighton even was—guessing from (as Nicholas had pointed out) the hair and the eyes, which resembled nothing of Severus.

"It is unfortunate to say that he _is _a relative of mine. He's my nephew." Harry tried not to grin as Severus seemed to be trying not to shudder or cringe as he said the last part. It was actually weird hearing Severus say that he had _family_, since, Harry had to admit, the thought of his father having a relative of any kind never really crossed his mind … until now.

"Your nephew," Harry repeated after a minute of collecting his thoughts. "Well, that's a … surprise. Are—are you and your … _sister _… close?"

It was the first thing that came to his mind to say.

"We were never close," Severus responded. He sat down in the armchair that Harry always found Severus sitting in. "Not even when we were younger," he continued.

Harry, for that moment, felt no longer mad at Severus. They both sat in silence, but it hardly seemed an awkward one. Finally, after what seemed like years of silence, Severus said, "Perhaps you should go now."

"You're the one you wanted to talk to me in the first place," Harry pointed out, his voice surprisingly wrapped with an icy coldness that he hadn't been expecting.

"I know that."

"Fine," Harry said shortly. He stood. "I'll see you in class, Professor."

"Sit _down,_" Severus said before Harry had the chance to move. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

Harry scowled. "Make up your mind! Do you want me to stay or not?"

"Of course I want you to stay," was Severus's reply. Harry stared at Severus, confused. If he wanted Harry to stay, then why did he suggest that he leave?

"You're confusing me," Harry admitted as he sat down. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be angry at Severus, but the only thing he felt at that moment was confused. "If you want me to stay, why did you tell me to leave?"

Severus didn't answer. He seemed to be wondering the same thing, but Harry decided to let it drop. He could tell that something was going on—something that Severus had trouble talking to Harry about, and that seemed to be taking over his mind, pushing every other thing aside. Maybe he _should _go, and let Severus be alone for a while. It wasn't as if Severus would actually _tell _Harry what was on his mind; he didn't ever seem to be the type of person that expressed his feelings or thoughts easily.

"So, Davy Brighton is your … nephew? His mother is your sister?" Harry tried keep the anger that he had developed out of his voice. He felt exhausted; hardly wanting to create another argument with Severus.

"Was," Severus corrected. "Somehow, she died."

"Oh. You don't know how?"

"Her mother despises me," Severus said, his lip curling after he said that. "That's probably the reason that she never told me that Linda died."

"Linda? Her name was Linda?"

"Something about it," Severus answered, looking a bit disgusted, "makes me hate the name. Perhaps because she was named it, and I have no liking for her—even now."

Harry was having a difficult time thinking of something to say. "Er—"

"Listen closely," Severus said suddenly, staring at Harry firmly. "I will not repeat anything, for it is not something I take enjoyment in talking about. I will only tell you this once, and after no questions will be asked. Understand?"

Hesitantly, Harry nodded. "I understand."

"Linda was a year younger than me. She wasn't very close to anybody—not me, our father _or _our mother," came the explanation. "Perhaps that's the reason why she left during her second year at Hogwarts."

"She left?" Harry interrupted. "What do you mean?"

Severus glared at Harry. "I thought you said that you understood when I said that no questions would be asked?"

"You said that no questions _after _you're done explaining," Harry pointed out. "I didn't think you were done explaining so soon."

"No questions _period, _you impertinent brat."

There was only a hint of teasing in Severus's voice, but Harry remained quiet from then on and let Severus speak, since he seemed very reluctant to do so.

"But _yes, _she _did _leave. Or ran away, actually. It was after her second-year at Hogwarts, and when she got on the train, and never came off to meet our parents. After that incident, my father disowned her."

Harry opened his mouth to ask something, he was _itching _with the urge to do so, but he refrained himself from doing just that, even though it bothered him. Severus could tell that Harry had wanted to say something, and had a vague idea of what it was.

"If you're wondering if she got _lost, _or something along those lines, she didn't. She didn't come home on purpose. I suppose you're clever enough to figure out why?"

Harry, after taking a moment of thinking, nodded his head slowly.

"Well. Merlin knows how she ended up where she did, but she ended up being taken in by a lady named _Mirabel Day_"—Severus clearly hated even the thought of this woman—"and the only other time I've seen her was during Hogwarts, and then I received a letter from her when she got married, one when she had Davy, another when her husband died and … that was it."

"So, what's with this _pain in the arse _thing?" Harry gave Severus a look, one that told him not to get after him for his language, and to answer truthfully.

"I have absolutely no idea where Davy Brighton came up with such a thing," Severus said with a placid look on his face.

"Oh?" Harry continued to stare at Severus. "I don't believe that you're being completely honest with me. Why?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, but said anyways, "I could've _perhaps _written a letter to Linda at the time when I took you to Hogwarts for the first time a few years ago, and you were to stay with me until they returned, though I have no recollection now _why._"

"When you showed up at the Dursleys? Why would you write that when it wasn't true—at all?"

Severus looked at Harry, and Harry was pleased to see _something _written on the Potion masters' face: surprise.

"Not true?" Severus said, now looking amused. "You _were _an annoying thing! Do you remember the questions you asked? They never seemed to end. I remember being relieved when you were to go back to your relatives."

Harry scowled. "But I never did."

"No," Severus agreed.

"Do you wish I _did_ go back?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"No, I suppose I don't. But don't let that letter get to you, Harry. When it may have been true at the time that it was written, it isn't true now. Though, I think the way Davy worded what was said in the letter was a bit of an embellishment," Severus answered.

"Well ... Thank you," Harry said, slowly getting to his feet. He didn't feel like staying much longer, since Severus looked exhausted, so he decided to leave and find Nicholas, or perhaps … maybe … even give Remus a quick visit.

"What for?"

Harry gave his shoulders a shrug. "For telling me. You could've lied about it or something, but you didn't; you told me. So thank you."

"Lied? What about—my sister, or about Davy being my—" Even that one, simple word couldn't seem to break free of Severus's lips.

"Explaining all that about your sister. You could've just said no, but you didn't."

"It could've been the fact that you're my son, and you have a right to know," Severus replied.

Harry grinned, giving his head a nod. "Yeah. I do."

-

Severus didn't even remember writing all that to Linda. He didn't even remember _what _she looked like anymore. He had to admit, however, that he was a bit surprised that Harry never found out about his sister before all of this. Harry did have the yearbook that he had given him a while ago, and it _did _have Linda Snape in there.

Harry had left a few minutes ago, and Severus still remained in the same chair he had been sitting in. Somehow, he didn't feel like moving. Maybe it was because of the shock over Linda's death. He, however, didn't feel a thing; not one. No remorse over not being more _there _for his sister back then, or trying his hardest just to like her _once. _Nothing. It was actually odd—shouldn't he feel _something, _since she _was _his sister?

Perhaps the reason was because he despised her. He had no cause for feeling that way, he just _did. _Linda, however, wasn't nearly close to the loathing Severus felt for James Potter, but she was almost there.

And Mirabel Day! How he hated just the name! He, too, had no reason for hating that lady—just like with Linda—but he did. Even though Linda was never close to any of the family, Severus remembered how worried his mother was when Linda didn't come, or how sad she was when she got the letter that said that Mirabel Day had wanted to adopt Linda. And even though she was upset, his mother still agreed to the adoption.

Severus's father, he remembered, was positively furious. After that letter had arrived he immediately disowned the girl, and from that day forward had remained just as angry and cold as ever. Severus recollected how his mother had died a few years after Linda had left—and how relieved he was when he was able to leave the house, and his father, who had died several months after Severus's own mother had.

The only relation that Severus knew of at the time was Linda. And now, with his sisters death, was Davy. That cheerful, aggravating Gryffindor boy that reminded him just exactly of Linda! Except for the hair and the eyes; those must've belonged to the boys' father.

Severus had only visited Davy three times during Davy's life. Once when he was born, the second when the boy was about five, and another when the boy had _just _turned eight. And now … now he was to see that cursed boy almost every day during Hogwarts!

Severus then decided to not think of Davy Brighton—if he continued to do so he knew that it'd just put him in a grumpier mood. He stood and sighed; what was he to do now? He almost wished that Harry hadn't left.

-

"How are you doing?"

Harry, who sat in front of the fireplace, turned his head around to glance at Remus who had brought both him and Harry a cup of pumpkin juice.

"All right," Harry said, taking the goblet from Remus and thanking him. He took a small sip. "I've been better."

"Understandably." Remus tipped the goblet up to his lips. "I hope this doesn't interfere with anything—"

"It doesn't," Harry interrupted immediately, looking back up at Remus. "It bothers me every time I think about Sirius, but it doesn't interfere with classes."

"Good," Remus replied. "You know, it bothers me too, Harry. The guilt—"

"I know," Harry interrupted. He took another drink of the pumpkin juice.

"You've grown a lot since the last time I've seen you," Remus said, changing the subject, which Harry was thankful for. He didn't want to talk about Sirius anymore, but more than that he didn't think he'd be able to stand the awkward silence that would've followed.

"Yeah," Harry said with a grin. "I guess I did."

"Have things been better between you and Severus? I don't think I've seen any communication between the two of you yet," Remus said, a fleeting frown crossing his face.

"Well … er … something happened recently," Harry tried to explain, "that made me a bit angry at him, but we talked about it and I'm pretty sure it's resolved. But, things have been better since the last time you were here. A lot better. I think Dad and I've gotten used to each other now."

Remus raised his eyebrows, a smile playing across his lips. "'Dad', huh? I guess things _have _changed."

Harry grinned back as they both slipped into silence.

_-_

A/N: Awe_somee! _This chapter is finished! Well, do I feel proud or what? I had a bit of trouble with this one; let's just hope I don't have the same problem with the next one ;-). Please r + r if you wanted the next chapter uploaded. Thanks!


	22. Quarrel

**Chapter Three**

"Isabelle … is … not right in the head!"

Nicholas sat down next to Harry in the Great Hall at lunch time. Harry was jolted out of his daydream, and looked at the angry boy beside him that violently slapped a fried sausage onto his plate.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked, almost oblivious to what Nicholas had stated beforehand.

"_With Isabelle! _She's gone mad!"

"How?"

"Look down the table." With angry eyes, Nicholas did just what he told Harry to do. Confused, Harry did the same, and saw down the table Isabelle talking, almost _happily, _to Caoimhe Aureus.

"I didn't know they were friends." It was hard for Harry to believe, since Isabelle and Caoimhe Aureus seemed like complete opposites, and it almost seemed natural they wouldn't ever have anything to do with each other—but then, here they were, chatting happily, as if best friends.

"They're not," Nicholas said, still staring at his sister. "At least, they shouldn't be. To think, this whole friendship with that _Aureus _is because of a _Gryffindor!_"

"What happened?" Harry questioned, but Nicholas shook his head, saying, "Maybe I'll tell you some other time … just not right now, too angry … stupid _sister, _talking with Caoimhe Aureus! It's just unthinkable for her!"

Harry let Nicholas continue talking so to himself, and decided to go back to what he was thinking about before Nicholas loudly interrupted. Tons of things actually, since he couldn't get his thoughts unscrambled.

"Harry," Nicholas said suddenly, once again jerking Harry out of his thoughts, "You're _never _going to believe what happened: you see, It's because Isabelle and Hermione Granger are not quite so friendly towards each other anymore—at least, Isabelle is, because Hermione Granger is acting quite friendly with Ginny Weasley, and Isabelle's jealous … though she won't admit it …"

"So she decided to be just as friendly with a Slytherin?" Harry guessed.

"Right! Almost as if to get back at Hermione Granger! Though, if you ask me, I don't think she has a clue what's going on with Isabelle," Nicholas finished with a nod of his head, almost as if telling Harry he was finished, without actually saying it.

"Well, did you tell your sister that Hermione can be friends with anybody she feels like?" Harry asked Nicholas.

"_Yes, _I did! I told her that and she didn't listen. She has an awful attitude now, if you get on her bad side." Nicholas scowled. "But of all the people she could befriend, did it _have _to be Caoimhe Aureus? She's such a … a … horrible person," he finished lamely, coming up with no word to describe the girl. "Why not—why not Pansy Parkinson, say? She's horrible too, just … not as."

Harry grinned and shrugged his shoulders, watching as Nicholas looked down the table again, completely ignoring his food.

"What kind of name is Caoimhe anyway?" came Nicholas's sudden voice, before Harry could take a bite of his potatoes and resume thinking. "How do you even spell it? K-e-e-v-a? Her mother could've picked a simpler name, huh? Wasn't it better when Caoimhe didn't know who she was? I find it was, she was less of a pain. What do you think her mother was like, Harry?"

"Awful," Harry said, just as sudden. "She was probably an awful person, and it's no wonder why Caoimhe Aureus came out just the same way."

"Oh," Nicholas said quietly, straightening. He looked uncomfortable now. "I forgot, Harry. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Harry answered, brushing it off. He took in a spoonful of potatoes. "Your sister has poor taste in choosing friends, though, Nicholas. Hermione was much better than Caoimhe."

"Don't tell me," Nicholas moaned. "I'd choose that Gryffindor over Aureus any day."

Harry winced. "Nicholas, can you not call her that?"

"What?" Nicholas looked confused. "Not call Hermione 'that Gryffindor'?"

"No," Harry answered, "not call Caoimhe Aureus by her last name. It … I just don't like it."

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. "Sure." He looked up suddenly when he noticed that his sister and Caoimhe Aureus stood.

"I wonder where they're going," he said suspiciously. "Come on, Harry, let's follow—"

"You know, I think those two are following everyone else," Harry interrupted as he stood, as well.

Nicholas's shoulders sagged, and he groaned. "Again? This is the second time that I missed a meal!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly, though he was grinning. "Next time you should just eat and talk at the same time, or keep from complaining about your sister and her friends until up in the common room or something."

Nicholas made a face, and then nudged Harry in the sides and whispered, "Hey look, Harry; looks like you've got yourself a fan!"

Harry followed Nicholas's gaze, which fell upon a Gryffindor student that was staring impassively at Harry, with light-coloured hair and equally light eyes …

Davy.

But, the first-year looked away just as Harry caught his stare.

"What's up with that Gryffindor, anyway?" Nicholas asked in a low whisper. "Are you related to him or something, or is he just somebody that's awed by the famous Harry Potter- … _Snape?_"

Harry smiled faintly as Nicholas forgot the second part of his surname, but he avoided answering the question directly. Perhaps tomorrow he'd tell Nicholas, just not now, with everything that was building up in his thoughts.

As they started walking out of the Great Hall, Harry was about to answer when—

"Well, aren't we just the Gryffindor magnets?" Nicholas muttered as Hermione hurriedly approached them.

"I just wanted to know," Hermione said quickly, "if something's wrong with Isabelle."

"Well … I would say so. Something _very wrong. _With her mind."

Harry ignored Nicholas, and said, "Don't worry, Hermione, something's just bothering her. She'll be all right."

Hermione smiled half-heartedly, said her 'goodbye' and quickly went over with the other Gryffindors.

"'Don't worry Hermione, something's just bothering her,'" Nicholas mimicked. "Draco would definitely be teasing you about that tonight."

Harry scowled. "_What?_"

"Being so friendly with a Gryffindor, that's what," Nicholas said, smirking. "You're just lucky he wasn't around us just then."

Harry shook his head. "Whatever."

Walking to their common room in silence, Harry was too absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't been able to complete to say anything.

Was it bad that he still felt angry at Remus for the Sirius situation? Of course, now that Sirius was proven innocent, Harry wished more than ever that Sirius was alive to celebrate it, and even though Peter Pettigrew was put in Azkaban, Harry felt that that just wasn't enough.

-

A/N: OK, so, thanks everybody SO much for all the reviews that this story has accumulated so far! I _really _am glad that people are still interested in this **Bond** sequel, lol. Thanks, and don't forget to R and R!


	23. House Unity

**Chapter Four**

**  
**

"Harry, Harry wake up, you'll be late for breakfast." Nicholas began to prod Harry when he didn't stir. "Harry!"

Harry slowly opened his eyes, wincing as he felt a pain in his stomach and a raw, sore throat. As he slid his glasses onto his nose, he was greeted by Nicholas's concerned face.

"Are you feeling all right? You're pale," Nicholas commented.

Harry frowned. "I am?"

"You don't look good at all," Nicholas continued, his face lined with concern. "Are you warm? Do you have a sore throat?"

"I have a sore throat," Harry said slowly, "and a headache. I don't know if I'm warm or not."

"One minute," Nicholas said as he stepped away from Harry's four-poster bed. "I'll go get Professor Snape—"

"_What_? No, I'm fine, honestly—"

Nicholas gave Harry a pointed look. "Professor Snape is your father, he'll know what to do."

Harry closed his eyes once again as Nicholas left. He could feel himself falling back to sleep, dozing off once again, but then was awoken again by a cold hand on his forehead. Harry opened his eyes again to see that it was Severus's hand on his forehead.

"You have a fever, that much is certain," Severus said quietly. "Mr. Nixon tells me that you have a sore throat and headache. True?"

"Yes," Harry answered, and then coughed. "I'm sick, aren't I?"

"Well I'd say. It's probably only the stomach flu, but for today you're going to be excused from all classes until you can at least _move._"

Harry scowled. "I can move."

Severus gave Harry a look of disbelief. "So you say. Why don't you prove that fact to Mr. Nixon and I by getting up and walking to the other side of the room?"

Harry looked hesitantly at Severus and Nicholas, before letting out a breath and sitting up. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he pushed himself up and began walking on wobbly legs. He was halfway to the other side of the room when he had to grab onto one of the other four-poster beds, swept away by a sudden wave of fatigue.

"Mr. Nixon, you may go down and have your breakfast," Severus said as he stood up. "I'll go inform Harry's teachers of his illness, but first I'll be taking you down to the chambers."

"I'll be fine here," Harry pointed out.

"You and I will both be much more comfortable in the chambers," Severus said as he walked over to Harry. He put an arm around Harry, supporting him as they walked out of the dormitories.

"You have classes to teach," Harry said. "You can't be looking after me all day."

Severus scowled. "Just why not? You're my son, you have the stomach flu and I am going to take care of you until you're feeling well enough to return to your classes. I see no problem why I can't talk to Dumbledore—"

"All right, all right," Harry interrupted. "Let's just hurry up, I think I'm going to be sick."

Harry took deep breaths as Severus lead him through the portrait hole, into the chambers. That didn't really seem to be helping him any, however, as Severus took him into Harry's bedroom; it made him feel even more sick.

Severus conjured a bucket and set it down by Harry's bed.

"So what are you going to do while I'm sick?" Harry questioned quietly.

"First of all, I'm going to ask Dumbledore if I can take today off. Then, when I return, I will be sitting in the exact same place that I am now."

"For the whole day?"

Severus looked annoyed. "Well I've never looked after an ill person besides myself! So I'll be sitting here until you fall asleep, and even then I'll still be sitting here."

Harry closed his eyes, looking a deathly pale. "You're crazy," Harry murmured. "But thank you for being there for me."

"Just rest now," Severus said in a soft voice. "No more talking or you'll be sick; just close your eyes and rest."

Harry didn't know how long he had been asleep for, but when he woke up he didn't see Severus sitting on the edge of the bed anymore. It was then that he realized that he didn't have his glasses on. But where had Severus put them?

Harry looked next to him as he felt something beside him: Severus, asleep. No wonder he hadn't been sitting on the edge of Harry's bed; he now lay beside Harry asleep.

Forgetting completely about about his glasses, Harry settled back down beside the Potions Master. He barely had a headache anymore, and he wasn't quite sure if he had a fever and was pale still, but he knew that he wasn't coughing as much as before either.

Then, a thought struck Harry. What if he suddenly had the urge to throw up? Severus was now the one beside the bucket, and Harry knew he'd never be able to make it to the bathroom. What if Harry accidentally threw up all over Severus?

Harry shivered at the thought. But no more talking about that; his stomach was beginning to churn.

-

The next time Harry woke, Severus was sitting up and looking down at Harry.

"You're awake," Harry commented, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

"So are you. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little. Glasses please—oh, and was that a potion or Muggle medicine you gave me?" Harry looked at the person standing in the doorway. "Nicholas."

"Professor Snape let me come visit you, and give you our homework. Oh, and I had to tell you that, well, Draco got attacked today in Care of Magical Creatures," Nicholas explained.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "By who?"

"Oh, it was a Hippogriff," Nicholas answered, setting a pile of books and papers on Harry's dresser. "It's too bad that it had to do that to Draco, of all people. I wouldn't be surprised if Draco or Draco's father really does something about it, though they probably will. Draco's being so dramatic about it."

Nicholas walked over to Harry's bed. "So are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Harry answered honestly.

"That's good to know. It was weird not having you in classes today, and we don't have any classes tomorrow as it's Saturday, so you won't have classes until Monday. Lucky." Nicholas grinned. "I'll be back after, I should get a start on my homework now. Professor Lupin said he was going to come see how you're feeling later too."

Nicholas gave Harry another grin before leaving.

Harry looked back at Severus, leaning his head against the pillows.

"Still tired?" Severus said as Harry nodded to the question.

"Will you stay with me, Dad?" Harry asked, blinking his eyes a few times to keep them open. He couldn't believe after the long sleep he had that he was still tired. "Just until I fall asleep, then you can leave if you want to. Just stay with me."

"Of course I will," Severus replied, and Harry knew that he wasn't going anywhere.

-

Harry and Nicholas sat in the Great Hall at Lunch on Saturday, while Isabelle had decided to _not _sit with Caoimhe Aureus that day, but instead, join Harry and her brother.

"I don't understand why you're not still hanging around with Hermione Granger," Nicholas continued on to Isabelle, who was blatantly ignoring him by cheerfully keeping her eyes down on her plate of food and eating. "She was an okay Gryffindor! But _Caoimhe Aureus? _What possessed you, Isabelle?" Nicholas shook his head. "What happened?"

Isabelle gave Nicholas an annoyed look. "It's just because of Hermione. She doesn't want either of us sitting at each others tables, just because we're in different Houses."

"Ah." Nicholas nodded his head. "Is that really something to not talk to her over?"

Isabelle scowled. "It's like she's ashamed! That she's _friends _with a Slytherin. No wonder she started hanging out with Ginny Weasley, she's in the same house as Hermione. So why is it so bad for me to start hanging out with somebody from _my _own house?"

Nicholas moaned. "Just as long as its not Caoimhe Aureus I'd be _fine! _She's such a ... a..."

Isabelle sighed, giving Harry, who sat beside Nicholas, a desperate look. "Harry, what do you think? Agree with me on this, please!"

"Huh?" Harry cast Isabelle a confused look. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Isabelle sighed again. "Of course you weren't."

"Aureus is a bad influence, I tell you," Nicholas said with a disapproving look as he dipped his spoon into a bowl of porridge. "Harry, tell her."

Harry began to shake his head. "I'm not getting involved with this."

Nicholas looked up at Harry in surprise, his mouth parted. "But—Harry—you agreed! You even _said _Isabelle made a bad choice in choosing Aureus as a friend!"

Harry pressed his mouth closed and began to concentrate on the food on his plate.

"Well I'm not talking about this any longer," Isabelle said. "We've been arguing for... who knows how long—"

"Seventeen minutes," Harry interrupted.

"Well, _Harry_ knows how long—but no longer! Think what you want Nicholas Nixon, but I'm not listening to you."

"Well I'm your brother," Nicholas argued, "and I command you to talk to Hermione Granger!"

Isabelle scowled. "You can't command me to do anything. I'm not talking to Hermione."

"That's what you think," Nicholas muttered darkly. "You had _one _sensible friend and you blew it."

Harry shook his head as Nicholas and Isabelle continued to bicker. Harry's eyes wandered up to the staff table, immediately landing on Remus Lupin. He seemed so quiet and sad, ever since Sirius's name had been cleared. Every time Remus looked at him, all Harry could see was guilt reflecting off the face. It made Harry start to not really want to be around him that much anymore; it made Harry himself start to feel guilty, though he didn't really know why he should.

After all, it was all Remus's fault that Sirius was gone, wasn't it? Harry had begged Remus not to tell Dumbledore, insisted that Sirius was innocent. _Not guilty. _Remus didn't believe him. Sirius got put back in Azkaban again, getting the Dementors Kiss...

Harry, tearing his eyes off Remus and pushing his thoughts aside, tuned back in to what Nicholas and Isabelle were arguing about.

"I'm not listening to this, Nicholas," Isabelle said in annoyance while shaking her head. "Just don't even bother!"

-

"I'm not fond of you right now, Nicholas," Isabelle said venomously to Nicholas as he and Harry stood with Isabelle and Hermione in the corridor.

"Aw, yes you are! I'm giving up a trip to Hogsmeade to help you two out—Harry too; he was nice enough to stay!" Nicholas glanced at Hermione. "Hermione Granger here, too," he added.

"She's the one who's too frightened to be seen with me, except for in the Library," Isabelle said accusingly.

"I—I just wasn't ready yet," Hermione answered defensively.

"She does have a point," Nicholas said with a nod. "This is House Unity we're talking about. Slytherin and Gryffindor. You're being a little immature, Isabelle," Nicholas commented honestly.

Isabelle faltered, turning a deep shade of red.

"I... I'm sorry Hermione," Isabelle said. "Amazingly... he's right..."

Nicholas frowned. "You _doubted _that?" Nicholas shooed them away. "Go, go, I finished my work here. _Very _successfully." Nicholas shot Harry a look. "So... we missed our trip to Hogsmeade today. Sorry. What do we do now that we've gotten the Dream Team back together?"

"We have homework," Harry pointed out slowly. "Want to go to my Dad's chambers and start working on it?"

Nicholas hesitated. "Would we be allowed?"

"I live there too; of course we would."

-

Later that day, as Harry and Nicholas were walking to the Great Hall for supper, they ran into Remus Lupin.

"Harry," Remus said, sounding completely taken by surprise.

"Professor Lupin," Harry responded slowly.

"I'll... see you." Uncomfortably, Remus walked away, leaving Harry staring at the spot where he just was standing. Nicholas tugged on Harry's elbow, dragging Harry forward a little.

"What's the matter with you two?" Nicholas questioned as they entered the Great Hall. Harry sighed.

"It's all because of the Sirius thing," he explained, making his way towards the Slytherin table. "I mean, at first it was... er... _fine, _but I dunno, lately he's been avoiding me."

Nicholas sat down beside Harry. "He'll get over it, Harry, and you guys will be good again." Eyes widening slightly, Nicholas jabbed Harry in the side with his elbow. "Blimey Harry—well, what do you know?"

Harry stared, along with most of the Great Hall, as Isabelle and Hermione sat down in front of Nicholas and Harry.

"What're you doing?" Nicholas hissed to the two, looking surprised.

"House Unity," Hermione replied in a confident voice, although she looked nervous, and her eyes darted around the Hall often. In a whisper, she added, "Are they still staring at me?"

Harry surveyed the Great Hall before Answering. "Uh, yeah, but don't mind them. I think you two are doing a good thing."

"Really?" Hermione questioned.

Harry nodded. "It's brave. It's House Unity; so yeah."

Nicholas jabbed Harry again.

"So Harry... how long has Lupin been avoiding you for?"

"Why has Lupin been avoiding Harry?" Isabelle asked before Harry could answer.

Nicholas glanced at Harry, who gave a nod of approval, before filling the other two in.

"He was your godfather?" Isabelle whispered to Harry. "I'm so sorry. I heard he was found innocent—"

"Bit too late, really," Harry said angrily. "Lupin said when he first came here 'If only he could turn back time to make it different, he would' but it still doesn't make it any better."

Harry watched suspiciously as it was Isabelle this time who gave Hermione a nudge in the ribs, and gave a very pointed look.

"What?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Yeah, what?" Nicholas echoed in the same suspicious confusion.

"You'd be doing a good thing," Isabelle whispered.

Hermione looked rather torn and thoughtful before she looked at Harry.

"Can... can I see you out in the corridor... Harry?" Hermione asked nervously, quickly glancing at Isabelle, who gave an encouraging nod.

"Um—sure," Harry said uncertainly. Several eyes followed Harry and Hermione out of the Great Hall.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously once they were safely out in the corridor. Hermione seemed to be toying with a chain hidden underneath her shirt. Slowly, cautiously, she pulled it out, so Harry could see a small hourglass hanging off the chain.

"Er... nice necklace?"

-

A/N: It's been a while; but I'm back, and so its only fair that my _actual _first new chapter comes out a little shaky right? ;-) Thanks to everyone who's stuck by this story. Next chapter will be up soon! _Promise._


	24. The Return

**Chapter Five**

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Was he dreaming? He had to be...

"Can you explain that again?" Harry asked, amazed that he could even speak.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. "You heard me the first time."

"I—I know, I just... can't... believe it," Harry admitted. "What is it called again?"

"A time-turner," came the reply. "It's how I've been getting to _all _my classes. But... you should know... I've never gone that far back before..."

"You'd do that?" Harry asked quietly.

"Well—yes."

Harry surprised himself by bringing Hermione into a hug.

"Oh—well, thank you," Hermione, seeming flustered as Harry pulled away, began to pull the necklace off her neck. She handed it to a confused Harry.

"What? N—no." Harry shook his head. "You're coming with me, Hermione. You know how to use it."

"Oh." Hermione, looking a little startled, put it back around her neck. "So... when?"

"Now?" Harry asked hopefully. With this news... there was no way he could wait another minute.

Hesitantly, Hermione put the chain around Harry's neck, too.

"Let's hope this works..."

-

As soon as everything had stopped spinning, Harry looked around eagerly to see where he and Hermione were.

In the same place as they originally had been.

Harry pulled the chain off his neck, dragging Hermione forward.

"If this worked," Hermione whispered, "we can't let anybody see us."

"What?" Harry turned around to stare at Hermione. "Then how can we change this?"

Hermione was about to answer before Harry pulled her quickly around a corner. Remus Lupin was coming down the corridor, and although it wasn't much of a difference, he did look a bit younger, which gave Harry hope that it did work.

Remus drew closer, and Harry's heartbeat quickened. So how was he going to do this? Well… maybe it would be okay if only _Remus _saw them… "Nobody else seems to be in the corridor."

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered, but Harry already stepped out in front of the older man.

"Harry," Remus said, obviously startled. "Your—you look... older."

"Sirius," Harry said hastily. "Do you have him yet?"

"What? Oh, well, Dumbledore has him now. They're—"

"He's innocent," Harry interrupted. "Don't give him the Dementors Kiss, Remus."

Remus sighed. "Harry, we've gone through this already. Why—you're—taller, aren't you? Wh—"

"I can prove it," Harry, once again, interrupted hastily. "Ronald Weasley's rat, Scabbers or something like that—he might not have it yet, but go to the Weasleys house. Ask if they have a rat named Scabbers, or for any rat they have as a pet. It's not a rat though, it's Peter Pettigrew—he betrayed my parents, not Sirius! _He's _guilty, _not Sirius!_"

"Harry—"

Harry sighed desperately. "Unless you want to spend years not talking to me—because you turned Sirius in and I never _ever _forgave you—then just do it, please! For me. Please Remus. Please."

With one last look, Harry stepped back from Remus and rounded the corner to join Hermione again, and with great respect, he brought her into another swift hug. "Thank you Hermione. Now... now let's go back, and hope that Remus listened to me."

"Yes," Hermione said, a worried, troubled look crossing her face. "But Harry... I just realized that this is only to go _back _in time, not forward."

Harry paled. "So what do we do? We can't stand here... Remus might come around, or somebody else—"

"I know," Hermione interrupted. "Well... we could always go to Professor Dumbledore," she finally suggested. "Explain to him; he could get us back."

"Yeah, he could," Harry considered, peering around the corner. "I think Remus left. Now's our chance to go."

Grabbing Hermione's wrist, Harry pulled her out and quickly walked through the corridors until they reached the gargoyle.

"We need a password," Harry said, glancing at Hermione.

"Just think of things that Professor Dumbledore likes," Hermione answered.

"All right," Harry said slowly. "Well, he likes sweets—just say whatever comes to mind."

"Bertie Botts."

Harry looked at Hermione in surprise as the gargoyle moved. "Well done, Hermione."

Both Harry and Hermione moved onto the moving staircase, which slowly lead them to Dumbledore's office.

-

After returning back to their right time with the help of their Headmaster, and after profoundly and repeatedly thanking Hermione, even though he was yet to be sure that anything had happened, Harry made his way to Severus's chambers. What if nothing happened? What if Remus hadn't done what Harry told him to?

Harry didn't realize that he'd already come to the portrait and had said the password.

_I'm really out of it, _Harry realized as he entered the chambers. _I'm_—

"Hey kiddo!"

Harry froze, as did his thoughts. Heart pounding and palms starting to become a little clammy, Harry knew that wasn't Severus's voice. No, it was...

Sirius's.

"Guess who's back?" came the voice again. Harry blinked several times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Sirius," Harry somehow managed to say through the lump in his throat.

There Sirius stood, looking tall and clean; loving. Much different from the Sirius years ago that was hiding away in the Shrieking Shack.

Bolting forward, Harry threw his arms around Sirius's neck.

Sirius's face formed that of surprise, but as he saw Severus appear in front of him, and after flashing a smug smile, Sirius stuck his tongue out at the Potions Master.

"You know," Sirius said as Harry eventually let go. "I haven't been gone that long, but I'm glad to see you missed me so much. Let me tell you though, Italy's _amazing. _Great food."

Harry grinned, trying not to let his confusion show. Just then he noticied that Severus had arrived.

"But, I'm back," continued Sirius, "and here to stay actually. I'm done my travelling—for now, that is, unless you come with me next time, Harry." Sirius winked, then help up his hands as he looked at Severus. "Yes yes, I know Snapey, you said no to Harry the first time I asked him to come to Philadelphia with me—But he's older. Harry can make decisions for himself now."

Not bothering to hide his annoyance, Severus said to Harry, "Are you coming to supper, Harry?"

Harry was still wondering if it was the same day or not, but hesitantly, Harry replied. "Actually, I'm not very hungry—could I stay here...?"

"Do what you want," Severus said curtly before he left. Harry stared into the empty spot that Severus stood, before Sirius steered him into the couch behind him.

"Did you see Professor—uh, Remus yet?" Harry asked as he sat down.

"Not yet. You're the first, kid. I forgot that Remus was teaching here." Sirius shook his head, brightening up. "I've got news Harry!"

Just seeing Sirius alive and well made Harry cheerful, and he was sure that it showed. "What?"

"Well..." Sirius paused for dramatic suspense. "Since I'm done travelling so much and am staying here... I thought, since I am your godfather..."

"That...?" Harry encouraged Sirius on.

"That you should move in with me! Besides... you don't _really _want to be... _here, _do you?"

Sirius looked so hopeful—but what about Severus? He _adopted _Harry... it just...

Thinking of nothing else to say, Harry only managed out a, "What?"

-

A/N: Thanks! And sorry for the short chapter, but I promise to update soon. It's been a long time for some of us actually, but I'm back, so R and R—I'd appreciate it!

Also, thanks to Sparkling Oracle for (since I'm just returning to this Fic) for helping write this chapter a bit. So this is dedicated to you. _Thanks! _


	25. Altercation

**Chapter Six**

Sirius faltered slightly, looking uncomfortably. "Unless you _don't—_"

"That—that's not it," Harry said, shaking his head. "Sirius, before you di—before you... _left, _things were different then. Dad—Severus—hadn't adopted me then and—wait, you knew Severus adopted me, right?"

Sirius frowned. "Of course I did. I just didn't think you'd actually _want _to stay with Snivellus."

How could Harry possibly tell Sirius that as much as he loved the offer... that he had to stay with Severus? He just... _belonged_? Although, part of him _did _want to go with Sirius...

Harry just didn't think, with Sirius alive again, that he would have to choose between Severus and Sirius like this.

"You know, maybe—maybe suggesting that was a mistake," Sirius said quickly as he stood up. "You obviously want to stay; what type of guardian would I be to you anyways? I should go... surprise Moony now."

Harry stood up too, watching as Sirius left the chambers. He couldn't find his voice right then; he felt guilty for making Sirius feel hurt like that.

_Great, _Harry thought as he retreated from the chambers as well. _Sirius's first day back _alive _and I've already hurt his feelings. _

-

The first place Harry decided to check was Remus's chambers—after all, that's where Sirius had said he was going to go. It wasn't that hard to go in to Remus's chambers anyway, since he had already learned the password on his very first trip there.

Although, Harry began to wonder. What was his and Remus's relationship like this time? Had he actually kept in touch with Remus, all those years that he had previously ignored him for?

Harry froze near the portrait hole as he heard Sirius and Remus talking somewhere in the chambers, their loud voices echoing off the walls.

"Things have changed since you left, Sirius. You know that," came Remus's voice.

"Oh, I'll bet!" Was the sarcastic reply from Sirius. "He's calling him _Dad _now, Moony! Snivellus is _not _Harry's father; James is! It's not Snape blood that's running through that boys' veins—"

"Sirius. Harry cares deeply for Severus, and same goes to Severus himself for Harry—"

"Don't start going on about Harry and _Snivellus _forming a bond of some type—"

A sigh came from Remus. "They are a family now, did you really expect to break—?"

Sirius's voice had grown much softer as he interrupted Remus, and Harry strained to hear what he ended up saying. "I thought when I came back, things would be different. Harry would be depressed with having to live with Snape, and that he'd come with me the first chance he got."

"He's the complete opposite," Remus responded. "He's happy with his life. He's got a home, friends, a father figure—"

"I guess there's no room for me anymore, huh? Pretty useless coming back. Snivellus probably raised Harry as a _Snape _anyway—no wonder the poor kid's in Slytherin."

"It's not—"

Harry couldn't seem to be able to move, even when Remus and Sirius had stopped talking when they stepped out of the room and caught sight of the boy, standing still with a frozen look of surprise.

"Harry—." Sirius stared at Harry, while Harry stared back.

"Severus is a good father," Harry said, the words escaping his lips before he had time to think of what he was to say. "It doesn't matter that I'm in Slytherin either, I'm still a good person, and I have friends that are good people in Slytherin too! Maybe bringing you back was a mistake."

Sirius watched as Harry turned around and fled Remus's chambers. For a moment, the two remained quiet, until Sirius cast Remus a confused look.

"How did _he_ bring me back, exactly?"

-

Sirius groaned. He expected to enter Severus's chambers to just find Harry there, so he'd be able to have a one-on-one talk with the boy. He didn't expect to find Severus there as well—though of course, why wouldn't he? It _was _Severus's chambers after all.

"I just want to talk to Harry," Sirius explained briefly. Severus scowled at him, Sirius only too glad to return it.

"He doesn't want to talk to you, Black," Severus answered coldly. "I suggest you leave now."

"Not until I get a chance to talk to my godson!" Sirius argued. "And you standing in front of me _isn't _going to stop me either, Snivellus."

"Get out."

The room to Harry's door was closed, but Harry stood by it and listened to what the two outside were saying. Which, wasn't that hard, since they both were using loud voices. Very loud; but never had Harry heard such venom in Severus's voice as he spoke to Sirius. Such hatred.

"_Not _until I talk to Harry," Sirius said coolly, but instinctively took a step back as Severus drew his wand and was pointing it at Sirius.

"I told you to _get out, _Black."

"Dad!"

Severus turned his head at the sound of Harry's voice. With another disgusted look at Sirius, Severus slowly lowered his wand, and looked at Harry, who now stood in front of the bedroom doorway.

"You _really _call _him _Dad?" Sirius scowled, but said nothing more.

Harry gave both a pleading look. "Can't you two _try _to get along? _Please_?"

"Impossible," Sirius said with a frown. Severus agreed with, "An absurd thought."

Harry sighed in defeat. "What do you want, Sirius?"

"I want to talk to you," Sirius answered firmly. Harry went over and sat on the couch, and continued to stare at Sirius when he didn't move.

"Well? You wanted to talk. I'm sitting and prepared to listen."

"Somewhere in _private_?"

Harry frowned. "Whatever you have to say... you can say it in front of my Dad."

Sirius hesitated, but eventually walked past Severus (Sirius _wasn't _going to pass up the opportunity of giving Severus a dirty glare on his way by either) and sat down beside Harry. He stayed quiet as he stared at Harry, who patiently stared back, while thinking of something he could say to start out with.

"I... am sorry you had to hear that," Sirius started uncomfortably. "I didn't mean... back at Remus's—"

"Yes you did," Harry said, giving his head a little nod. "You were just... I dunno... angry."

Sirius gave a small, appreciative smile. "You're still defending me even after you heard what I said. You really are something, kiddo. You should know, Harry, that I really do mean it when I say that I'm sorry."

Harry nodded, staying quiet as he glanced down at his hands.

Sirius tilted his head until he caught Harry's gaze again. "Do you forgive me Harry? I know I was out of line. I know... I just don't want you to be angry with me anymore."

Harry nodded his head after a moments silence, contemplating over Sirius's apology. "Yeah, I do."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief. "You know I don't say these things intentionally to hurt you? I'd never, _ever _intentionally hurt you Harry."

Harry gave a small smile. "I know you wouldn't."

Sirius smiled brightly. "And… no matter _if _you are living with Snape… I will _always _love you." With a moments pause, Sirius changed the subject. "Listen Harry, Dumbledore said it was OK, so I've decided to stay here with Moony until I can find a decent place to permanently stay... and I hear you have a Quidditch game coming up soon."

Harry nodded. "A few days, yeah."

"You wouldn't mind if I went, would you? I'd love to watch you play."

A slow smile crept on to Harry's face as he nodded his head. "I'd like it if you came Sirius." Harry paused for a moment before adding, "I missed you while you were gone."

A soft smile appeared on Sirius's face as he drew Harry into a hug. "I missed you too, my little Slytherin."

"You're okay with it?" Harry whispered to Sirius as he pulled out of the hug.

"I will _always _know that you're a good, sensible kid, Harry. Even if you are a Slytherin," Sirius added with a small grin. "You're not evil. You'll do good in this world; I know it. I feel it."

-

To Harry, Severus didn't seem too thrilled that Sirius was back. Harry was the complete opposite. Ever since Sirius and Harry had talked, Harry was _ecstatic. _Having Sirius back... Well, Harry was only just too thankful for Hermione and her time-turner.

The only downside to having Sirius back, was that Severus and Sirius couldn't stand being in the same room with each other for more than four minutes without getting into an argument over _something. _Though, even as Sirius had eventually left the chambers, Severus still seemed angry, even with Harry. Cold, curt and... _avoiding _Harry.

What had Harry possibly done to get on Severus's bad side? Harry thought back to his time spent in the chambers with Severus and Sirius, but he could think of nothing.

Harry now made his way back to his dorms. Harry still hadn't bothered asking anybody if it was still the same day as when he and Hermione used the time-turner. Did she even remember like Harry did? What did Nicholas remember, and had anything _else _changed?

A groggy, sleepy-sounding "Harry?" had immediately welcomed Harry as he entered the dorm. The voice belonged to Nicholas.

"Yeah," Harry answered as he sat down on his four-poster bed. "It's me."

Now Harry saw Nicholas's silhouette sit up. "Where were you? You missed supper today. The whole time everybody in the Great Hall kept glancing now and then at Isabelle and Hermione. Well, our House was mainly glaring, but where'd you go to?"

"Sirius is back," Harry whispered as he slipped underneath the covers. "I was with him and Dad."

"Oh right. I heard you talk about him before... your godfather, right? He travelled a lot?"

Harry slowly nodded, though Nicholas couldn't see him in the dark. "Sure. Yeah."

"Is he visiting?" Nicholas questioned in the same whisper.

"No," Harry, as he lay back on his pillow, couldn't help but smile. "He's staying."

Harry _really _had to thank Hermione again in the morning when he got the chance.

-

A/N: To Be Continued... :-)


	26. Lightning

**Chapter Seven**

"I don't understand." Nicholas shook his head as he and Harry ate breakfast in the Great Hall. "Is it because of Sirius?"

Harry frowned, twirling his spoon in his porridge, but not eating it. "No," he answered. "I'm always nervous before a Quidditch game."

"But you usually eat a _spoonful _of at least _something. _Right now, you've had a sip of juice and so far nothing else." Nicholas gave Harry a look but said nothing else about it. Instead, he said, "Well, I hope you can still play through this rain."

Harry looked startled. "Rain? It's raining?"

"Uh-huh," Nicholas replied. "Just a bit though, nothing to worry about I don't think."

"It's just rain?" Harry asked tentatively.

Nicholas gave Harry a quizzical look, but nodded. "I think so—why?"

"I couldn't play if it was storming out," Harry answered honestly.

"If it was _really _bad out I don't think you'd have to play," Nicholas replied. "Then again, I'm not sure. Why, scared of storms?" Harry gave Nicholas a look, one which he immediately understood. "Ohh you are... well, I wouldn't worry. I'm pretty sure it's just raining."

Harry nodded and looked up at the staff table, which he usually did, and tried to catch Severus's eye. Usually before a game, Severus would always give Harry an encouraging, wordless nod from the staff table, which would normally boost Harry's confidence a little.

But now, it seemed that Severus was purposely ignoring Harry. He wouldn't make eye contact, no matter how long Harry stared.

What was going on?

-

As Harry made his was onto the pitch, he noticed that it was definitely more than a _little _bit of rain. It was coming down so fast and violently, Harry wondered how he was ever going to be able to see.

"Harry!" It was Nicholas's voice that called out his name. Harry turned around and saw Nicholas come up to him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked. "You're getting soaked!"

"Just want to wish you luck before the game," Nicholas said after a moment, since a forceful gush of wind had momentarily taken his breath away. "Lots of people are cheering for you!"

Then Nicholas ran back to the stands as Harry went further onto the pitch. Already his glasses had accumulated so many raindrops that all he was able to see were dots of rain, causing his vision to become blurry.

Harry wasn't doing too good. Besides not being able to see, every time a clap of thunder had shook the sky, Harry would wince and momentarily lose grip on his broom.

Then, just as Madame Hooch blew her whistle, the first bolt of lightning lit the sky. Luckily Harry was on the ground by then, but that didn't stop him from tripping—but that could have been because of his poor vision, too.

It was a time-out as Harry followed his teammates under a rather large umbrella; and then Nicholas and Hermione appeared, holding a cloak above their heads as shelter from the rain.

"Hermione had an idea about your glasses, if they're bothering you," Nicholas explained. "Can she…?"

"Go ahead," Harry answered.

Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped Harry's glasses, saying, "_Impervius!_"

Harry was amazed as the water began to repel from the lenses.

"Thanks," he said gratefully. He watched as Hermione gave him a grin, and slipped back into the stands.

"She's getting used to us," Nicholas remarked with a nod, talking about Hermione. "Doesn't say much, can be rather awkward with us sometimes—but she is.

"Oh," Nicholas continued suddenly. "Sirius is watching you too—looks so proud. Did you hear him? Blimey, was he cheering loud for you! Doesn't matter that you're playing for Slytherin, nope. Your _dad _on the other hand..."

Harry frowned, nervously looking back as everyone began to go back onto the pitch to resume the game, then looked back at Nicholas.

"What about my Dad?"

"I don't even really think he's paying attention to the game. Too busy staring at Sirius. No, sorry, too busy _glaring. _Most hateful glare I've ever seen in my life—"

The frown remained on Harry's face, but he began to back away. "Sorry, I have to go back—"

"Good luck!" Nicholas called before running back to the stands.

Then the game started up again. Harry tried to concentrate, not on the rain, thunder and lightning, but on finding the Snitch.

Every time thunder hit, however, Harry would wince, and every time a crack of lightning lit up the sky, Harry would cringe. With all of this, it was impossible for Harry to focus on the game.

Harry then saw the Snitch through the veil of rain. Not far—and Harry went for it. He could feel the Ravenclaw Seeker not far behind him, gaining up speed—

Arm outstretched, fingers spread far apart, ready to curl tightly around the Snitch, Harry was jolted as a flash of lightning struck his broom, and he was going down... but at least he had his hand firmly clamped around the Snitch.

-

Harry could only make out a few blurred faces as he awoke, but that was only because he realized he didn't have his glasses on. When they were placed on his nose, the faces then became clearer: Sirius, Nicholas and Hermione.

"Are you okay, kid?" Sirius asked softly as Harry blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light. "That was some fall."

"Fine," Harry answered, his voice sounding a little hoarse and raw. He turned his gaze to Nicholas eagerly. "Did we win?"

"You betcha," Nicholas said, rather cheerfully. "You made me proud, Potter-Snape, that you did! I mean, except for the falling part, it was amazing—you still _caught the Snitch! _I'm glad you're better and awake now," he added quickly.

"He's not the only one you made proud out there," Sirius said with a smile. "You were a natural."

Harry blushed, then gave Hermione, who stood by Nicholas, a small grin. She returned it.

"Glad you're awake, Harry," she said.

Harry, as he took in all the faces, noticed that one that was expecting to see, wasn't there.

"Where's Dad?" Harry asked Sirius after taking another look around.

"He got caught up," Sirius answered, frowning. "Davy Brighton. Never seen a kid who talked so much. Snape has been by your bed ever since your fall," he added after noticing Harry's rather upset look. "I know he'd want to be here when you woke up. I sort of hate to admit it kiddo, but it seems our Snapey has a heart _after all!_"

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked quietly. "Has it been... long?"

Nicholas was the one to answer. "Almost a day, maybe a little after. Dumbledore was the one who got you first—sort of waved his wand then you slowed down as you got closer to the ground. You know, Snape did look worried as he went over to you... the most worried I'd ever seen him. You don't have to get that... that angry, sad look on your face that he's not here—"

Harry scowled. "I don't have an angry, sad look on my face! Dad can be wherever he wants, it doesn't _need _to be with me."

"Well you don't have the look on your face _now," _Nicholas replied. "But you did, not too long ago—"

"Hey, I have an idea," Sirius interrupted. "Why don't you and Hermione go and... do something... while I talk to Harry?"

"All right," Nicholas agreed, rather reluctantly. "We _will _be back, Harry!"

Harry watched as the two left, then slowly turned his gaze back to his godfather, who was staring at Harry quietly.

"What?" Harry asked with a curious frown.

"It's not your fault," Sirius said after a while. "That Snape's not talking to you much anymore. It's because I'm back, and it looks like he might be a _little _jealous..."

"Why would he be jealous?"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me. Maybe he thinks that you'll have a change of heart and suddenly want to come live with me?" Sirius then held up his hands, quickly saying, "Just hypothetical of course, I _know _you want to stay with Snape. But maybe he doesn't know that, so thats why he's acting his normal cold, heartless, slimy way.

"Don't worry Harry," Sirius continued. "I mean even I noticed the way he's been acting, but don't let it bother you. When he realizes that you're not going anywhere, he'll come off it." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair as he stood up. "I should go tell old Moony that you're awake. He wanted to know so he could come and see you."

"Oh, Sirius?" Harry asked before Sirius had a chance to leave. "My broom—what—?"

Sirius frowned, scratching the side of his head. "Well you see... when the lightning hit, it sort of... and the end of it kind of... and it was smoking—"

"In other words, it's in bad shape," Harry interrupted flatly.

Sirius nodded apologetically. "In other words, yeah."

Harry sighed, leaning back onto his pillows and resting his eyes. So, he knew why Severus was acting so oddly—or, had a hypothetical reason at least. Harry just hope he'd get over it soon.

-

A/N: All right, so I've never had lightning hit my broom before—but lightning can reach temperatures approaching 28,000 °C, which is pretty hot, so I'm guessing that it _could _ruin a broom... well, anyway, thanks everyone and R + R—I appreciate it!


	27. Confrontation

A/N: Big, big mistake with the previous chapter eight! I accidentally posted chapter NINE instead… my apologies. HERE is the REAL chapter eight!

-

**Chapter Eight**

Remus Lupin had been ill to teach any of his classes when Harry was able to leave the hospital wing—and he only knew too well the reason why. He found that all was good, however, since when he entered the DADA classrooms (although ten minutes late) he saw Sirius Black standing up at the front of the classroom.

"Mr. Potter-Snape," Sirius spoke in his most austere voice. "Ten minutes late ... take your seat, please."

Harry could only take his seat by Nicholas in shock. Why hadn't he known that Sirius was going to be Remus's fill-in?

"Everyone's sort of nervous," Nicholas whispered to Harry. "You know, having _Sirius Black_ substitute, but he's actually fun and it's not bad."

"I just didn't think teaching was really his... _thing," _Harry whispered back as Sirius began to explain Hinkypunks ("A Hinkypunk is a small, one legged creature that appears to be made out of smoke. It carries a lantern that is used to lure unsuspecting travelers into bogs—")

"Well he's good," Nicholas replied with a nod.

-

Harry, after Defence Against the Dark Arts class had finished, wasn't in that much of a hurry to go to his next class as he stayed behind to talk to Sirius.

"Why didn't you tell me you were filling in for Remus?" Harry said with a smile.

"Well, I wanted to surprise you! Of course, this whole teaching-thing is only until Moony gets better," Sirius explained. "It feels weird though. Usually I would be the one who _wasn't_ paying attention during classes... getting all the detentions... and now here I am, a _substitute._" Sirius gave a playful grin. "How things change, huh?"

"I have to say this class was one of my favorites."

"Ahh, thank you, thank you, you're too kind." Sirius flashed an embarrassed smile. "Now go on to your other class before your teacher kills me for keeping you too long."

-

Potions class was one of the worst of Severus's classes, Harry found. Severus still wasn't giving Harry the time of day, while he seemed extra angry that day as well. Could it have been the fact that Sirius was teaching Remus's classes?

Now, it was lunch, and as Nicholas went on about Isabelle sitting at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, Harry found it hard to pay attention. Sirius was up at the staff table in Remus's place, while Remus was still recovering in the hospital wing, and he was talking to Severus about something. Both looked irritated—especially Severus—and Harry began to wonder what they were talking about.

"Hello? Harry Potter-Snape?"

Nicholas's voice startled Harry out of his thoughts.

"Usually I just hear people calling you Potter," Nicholas continued musingly. "Never Potter-Snape. Just Potter. Does that bug you? I mean, admit it, it's easier calling you _Potter _without saying the extra surname... but does it?"

Harry looked at Nicholas blankly. "_What?"_

Nicholas shook his head. "Never mind. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry answered.

Nicholas looked Harry over suspiciously. "Is it because of Professor Snape and Davy Brighton?"

Harry looked at Nicholas in surprise. "What about them?"

"Well I just mean... how Davy Brighton is spending all his time with Professor Snape. You say he's Davy Brighton's Uncle right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, looking down at his plate. "I didn't know that Dad and Davy Brighton were spending time with each other... I thought Dad hated Brighton?"

Nicholas gave his shoulders a shrug, taking a bite of his sausage. "I just see Davy Brighton following Snape everywhere. I mean, it's OK that you didn't know—you have been a little excited that Sirius returned the last few days, so its understandable..."

"I haven't even had a normal conversation with my dad for a _while _now," Harry said, more to himself than to Nicholas. "And Brighton's having conversations _daily?" _

"Well maybe you should just talk to him or something," Nicholas suggested. "But... I'd maybe wait on that. He looks a little grumpy."

Harry turned his attention to Davy Brighton at the Gryffindor table. Davy caught Harry's eye and gave a smug smile, which made Harry's blood boil.

-

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Harry said to Remus as they both walked to Severus's chambers.

"I am too," Remus answered. "So how was Sirius in my class? Should I have been worried?"

Harry smiled, shaking his head. "He was brilliant."

Remus looked relieved, and then cringed as he and Harry made their way through the portrait hole into Severus's chambers. Loud, angry voices echoed off the walls.

Remus slowly lead Harry to the kitchens, which Severus never used, where the voiced could be traced.

"You're not being a very good father! You should have _seen _Harry's face when he woke up in the hospital wing to see you not there!" Sirius said, his voice laced with anger.

"If I'm such a bad father," Severus answered coldly, "then _you _take the boy! I'm sure he'd _love _being raised by you, and surely you'd do a _much _better job. It'd at least take him off _my _hands—"

"Excuse me!"

Remus looked and sounded just as angry as Severus and Sirius did.

Both turned around at Remus's voice, then looked down at Harry, who stood by Remus quietly.

"I'm sure you didn't mean it Severus," Remus said to Severus coldly. "Am I right?"

Waking up from his daze, Harry looked at Remus and shook his head. "No, no it's fine Professor Lupin. I'm just... not wanted."

"No Harry," Remus said. "You_ are_ wanted." He then turned to Severus and Sirius. "If you two keep on arguing about Harry so much, why don't you_ both_ start to raise Harry together?"

Sirius paled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're looking for a place to stay, right? You could move in with Severus and Harry, that way you_ both_ can have Harry without arguing and making him choose between the two of you."

Harry didn't bother to listen to the rest. Slowly he turned around and made his way out of the chambers, the loud voices resuming as he left, with one addition: Remus. Harry was so amazed at what Severus had said that he forgot completely that he had called Remus "Professor Lupin" when they weren't even in class.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he didn't even notice somebody calling his name, until he felt a cold hand clamp down on his shoulder, preventing Harry from going any further. Startled, Harry looked up to see Severus standing beside him, an irritated look placed on his face. Harry tried to struggle out of the grip, but Severus kept it firm and unmoving.

"What?" Harry demanded, still struggling, but Severus wasn't going to let go.

"I don't appreciate that tone," Severus said coldly.

Harry glared. "I don't appreciate what you said about me, _Professor. _Now if you would just let me go—"

"If you keep struggling as you are," Severus replied, "then I _will _give you a detention—"

"Fine!" Harry yelled, causing some of the students that were passing to stop and stare at what was going on. Severus's hard glare caused them to continue on, though. "Give me all the detentions you want Professor, just let me _go!_"

Severus's hand slowly let go of Harry's shoulder. "You're not to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Potter; you're to stay with me in the dungeons until I let you leave."

Harry glowered. "And do _what?_"

"We'll see when you come tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Harry said sarcastically. "A little father-and-son bonding—should be the best night of my life, honestly! Unless—"

"Hi Uncle Sev," came Davy Brighton's cheery voice from behind Severus. Harry turned his head and stared at the Gryffindor in utter dislike. Davy, however, stared at the scene, looking amused. "What's going on?"

"Of course," Harry said suddenly. "Coming to see your Uncle Sev for one of your daily chats—_of course. _Well, I hope you two have a great time."

Harry spun around and walked away, muttering "Git" under his breath. He froze when he heard Severus call out, "I heard you Potter. Care to make your detention two hours longer?"

Ignoring him, Harry continued on, but then bumped into Hermione along the way.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Hermione frowned. "What's the matter?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, you don't want to hear all about my problems."

Hermione nudged him. "Sure I do, I don't mind."

Harry observed Hermione for a moment before telling her what happened. It felt good to be able to tell someone without them interrupting, and to have them actually listen.

"Is it weird?" Harry asked softly after he was done. At Hermione's confused stare, he elaborated. "Being friends with a Slytherin?"

"Oh," Hermione looked thoughtful. "At first it's awkward, but then I got used to you guys, and—" She stopped talking at once, a pink tinge on her cheeks. "Of course, if you're just talking about me being friends with Isabelle, well then—"

Harry interrupted her with a grin. "Nicholas and I consider you our friend, Hermione. I was talking about all of us."

"Oh... well," Hermione paused, looking pleased. "You, Nicholas and Isabelle aren't really like the other Slytherins," she explained slowly. "So its not much different from being friends with anybody who's in any other House."

She gave Harry a comforting pat. "Don't worry, Harry. It'll work out fine. At least you get to spend detention by yourself with Professor Snape; it'll give you two a chance to talk." She hesitated before saying, "It seems like all these problems started after you and I... and Sirius..."

"Yeah," Harry interrupted. "But I'm glad we did. Like you said Hermione, it'll work out fine."

And then he and Hermione parted, and Harry was off to the Slytherin dorms in search for Nicholas. He hoped that tomorrow would be much better than today was, although he wasn't looking forward to one thing:

The detention with his father.

-


	28. Detention

**Chapter Nine**

When Nicholas, Isabelle and Hermione were to go to Hogsmeade the next day, Harry felt a little left out when he began to realize that he wasn't going to go with them. It was his own fault, though, and he knew it. Harry, for most of the day, had avoided all three of the adults the next day: Remus, Severus and Sirius. He knew that, as he _very _slowly made his way to the dungeons, he wasn't going to be avoiding Severus any longer.

When Harry reached the classroom, he went in to find it empty. Walking slowly, Harry took a seat and waited. Severus usually wasn't late to a detention—of course, this was Harry's first one with Severus, but he knew that whenever Severus had a detention with another student, he was usually punctual.

Then, Harry turned his head around as Severus swept in, looking annoyed.

"Brighton kept you, I take it," Harry sneered.

Severus didn't answer, but sat down at his desk and stared wordlessly at Harry. Harry's expression soon slipped from his face as he stared back, and he became rather nervous. Why was he just staring? It would be so much better if Severus would just speak, instead of staying so quiet, it made Harry fidgety, nervous—

"Are you all right?" Severus finally spoke, causing Harry to jump.

Harry scowled. "Well I _was, _until you just scared me half to death."

"I meant about your fall, in Quidditch. Are you all right?"

Harry frowned. "I—I'm fine. Why are you asking?"

The irritated tone returned to Severus's voice. "I am your _father_—"

"Are you now?" Harry interrupted. "'Cause yesterday, it didn't seem like you wanted to be 'my father' so much." Harry didn't wait for Severus to answer. What he had just said really hadn't made much sense to him, either. It just sort of… came out, without thinking. He sighed. "Look, what am I doing for detention? Or can I just _leave?_"

"There will be no leaving," Severus answered coolly. "You will sit here."

Harry stared. "Just… sitting?"

"Indeed. No talking, you will just sit."

"When can I leave?"

Severus gave Harry a look. "When I tell you to."

Harry leaned back in his seat. It seemed Hermione was wrong; he and Severus weren't going to get a lot of talking done. He glanced up briefly to see Severus staring at him still, so he looked back down at the top of the desk.

This was going to be an extremely long detention, and an awkward one at that.

-

"Can I go yet?" Harry asked, though he didn't have a clue how long he had been sitting there. Wasn't this detention only supposed to last an hour? It seemed so much more _longer_.

"No, you cannot," Severus answered, and Harry expected him to say more. Yet he didn't.

"Don't do that," Severus said suddenly after a few minutes had passed, startling Harry. Harry watched as Severus didn't look up from the papers he was looking at. Harry, however, kept drumming his fingers on the desk just to annoy the potions master further. At least that would help him pass the time.

"For Merlin's sake Potter, would you control yourself from doing that? You're exasperating me!"

"What happened to Harry?" Harry scowled. "I was certain we got over that years ago, Professor."

With an exasperated sigh, Severus irritatedly looked up at Harry. "What did I say about not talking that you didn't _quite _apprehend?"

Harry, while quickly searching up something to retort, was interrupted by someone coming into the classroom. Severus looked up while Harry had to look back.

It was Davy Brighton.

But of _course _it was Davy Brighton—who else would it be?

"Hey Uncle Sev," said the boy as he cast a quick look at Harry.

"It's Professor Snape to you, Mr. Brighton," Severus answered in an annoyed tone. "Now what exactly can I do for you?"

Though his tone was irritated and annoyed, Harry could see Severus giving the boy a soft look. Davy Brighton... who was in _Gryffindor! _Didn't Severus despise Gryffindors? Why was he giving Brighton such a... calm, relaxed look?

"It's lunch Uncle Sev," Davy responded brightly, completely forgetting (or just ignoring) what Severus had just said. "I came to get you. I didn't know you were busy."

Harry looked at Severus in horror. "It's _lunch?_" Harry repeated. "You were going to keep me in for _lunch?_"

"I would've given you something to eat, it's not as if I'd starve you," Severus pointed out, the hard, cold look returning as he stared at Harry.

"Oh no, that's only something the Dursleys would do."

Harry himself couldn't be more surprised at what just slipped from his mouth. The _Dursleys? _Neither of them had spoken about them in a _long _time. Harry realized that he must have been very angry to bring them up…

Quickly, and without any permission from Severus, Harry stood up and left the classroom. Davy Brighton really got under his skin—but was that only because the Gryffindor was spending more time with Severus than even _Harry _had lately?

Harry ran into someone, and at first thought it was Remus Lupin, but then looked up and saw that it was Sirius.

"Woah, hey, where's the fire, kiddo?" Sirius looked down at Harry with concerned eyes. "How'd your detention with Snape go?"

"Perfect," Harry answered sarcastically, realizing this was the first time Harry had spoken to Sirius since he and Remus found his father and godfather arguing. "What made it even _more _perfect was when Davy Brighton came down to get his _Uncle Sev_ for lunch."

"Aw, Harry," Sirius said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Don't be jealous of Davy Brighton. Snape _does _love you Harry, and if you think that he loves Brighton more than you, well, you're definitely wrong on that one."

Harry frowned. "Who said that I was jealous of Brighton? I am not jealous."

"Ah, well, first step _is _denial," Sirius said in a serious voice as he walked with Harry through the corridors. "Second step is realization."

Harry looked up at Sirius. "Third step?"

"Admitting."

Harry glanced down at the floor they walked across. "Brighton _is_ spending more time with Dad than I even have."

Sirius gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "What do you say we _completely _skip the Great Hall lunch and go to Remus's quarters? He can make us a lunch. He's a pretty great cook; plus he has a wand. That comes in handy."

Harry's mind wandered onto Severus, but he agreed anyways. "Don't you have a wand anymore, Siri?"

Sirius looked grim. "I did, but when I went to Azkaban they broke it." He looked down at Harry. "I'll get Ollivander for a new one sometime. But look, kiddo, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," Harry answered.

"When Remus suggested that I move in with you and Snape, sort of be a permanent house guest y'know, well, Snape might not have, but I took it into consideration. I mean, it might be living with _Snape, _but it's living with you too, and I'm all for that. This way, instead of choosing, you'd be with both of us... Just don't mention the me-living-with-Snape if this does happen, I'm still trying to grasp that concept."

"You mean you're going to move in with us?"

"Well, I have to talk it over with Snape first," Sirius said quickly. "I mean, he won't like the idea that much either, but the reason I came back was because I got lonely, and I already missed a lot of you growing up. I don't want to miss anymore."

"You know, if I was talking to my dad," Harry mused, "I could probably convince him, too. That would have been a good advantage."

"Don't worry about it," Sirius said lightly. "Things'll get better, Harry."

-

"Where were you?" Nicholas demanded after Harry finished having lunch with Remus and Sirius.

"I was with Sirius and Remus," Harry answered. "Eating lunch. Down in Remus's chambers."

"Oh… 'kay. Good." Nicholas suddenly looked thoughtful. "You know, I wish I had family that were a Professor at Hogwarts. I mean, you have Snape, and he's the potions Professor. Then your godfather was a subsitute, and Remus is your friend and _he's _the DADA Professor."

Harry grinned.

"I wonder if my _Uncle _will ever teach at Hogwarts," Nicholas continued.

"Can he teach?" Harry questioned.

Nicholas frowned, then shook his head. "Nah, never mind. If he worked at Hogwarts things could get a little dangerous. He'd probably annoy me to death, too."

Harry looked at Nicholas curiously as they made their way to the Slytherin common room. "Did you ever find your parents yet, Nicholas?"

Nicholas shook his head. "My _adoptive _parents are saying they'll tell me everything this summer."

"Are you nervous?"

Nicholas nodded. "Definitely. I wonder if my real parents will like me?"

"Of course they will," Harry said encouragingly.

Nicholas was quiet as they walked through the portrait hole and into the common room.

"Potter-Snape, Nixon," Draco Malfoy acknowledged as they walked by him. Harry glanced at Nicholas in surprise.

"Has he ever said anything to you lately?" Harry asked quietly as they sat down. "I haven't really spoken to him much at all."

"I know," Nicholas answered, just as quiet. "I think he'd rather stay away from us after all those times we've put his precious life in danger."

Harry only grinned.

-

A/N: What was difficult about this chapter... was that... I didn't really know when to end the chapter and _how _to end it. But the next chapter will be up soon; R and R!


	29. Christmas

**Chapter Ten**

It was two weeks before the end of term, and already the snow had covered Hogwarts like a blanket. Harry hadn't spoken to Severus, at all, actually, since his detention—and Sirius wasn't having much luck convincing Severus to let him move in with him and Harry.

Although besides that, Sirius seemed to be excited about something that caused Harry to become curious over what.

It was on a Sunday afternoon that Harry decided to ask Sirius what he seemed to be excited about, and Sirius didn't hesitate to tell Harry.

"This," he said, holding up a piece of parchment. "I took it from Snape, who took it from the Weasley twins. I don't know why, Snape never told me—actually, he doesn't even know that I took it—but this, my little Slytherin, is the Marauder's Map."

Harry looked at Sirius, who had the proudest look on his face, in confusion.

"What's the Marauder's Map?"

"It was created by me, Remus, James and... _Pettigrew._" Sirius said the last name with pure distaste, but suddenly became cheerful again as he continued on. "It's a map. It's very detailed, it shows the Hogwarts school and grounds and where _everyone _is."

"Wow, and you made it?" Harry looked impressed. Sirius nodded, smiling proudly.

"That we did! I just have to wait for Moony to use his wand so I can actually show you," he explained. "Oh, were those good times." Then, Sirius gave Harry a searching look. "Talked to Snape lately?"

Harry wordlessly shook his head, then after a moment said, "Not lately."

"You've _got _to sometime," Sirius responded. "It's nearly Christmas."

"I know," Harry answered dully. "But he's being just as stubborn as I am about this."

"There's one upside to this," Sirius said slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "This is _our _first Christmas together again!"

Harry returned the smile. "It is, isn't it?"

Sirius nodded, changing the subject again. "So tell me, Harry, what are we doing in Snape's chambers?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I used to always come here. Sit and talk... this is usually the place. I sort of forgot about, well... and..." Sirius waited patiently until Harry finally said, "and I was sort of _thinking _of, y'know, being on good terms with Severus again, or at least try to be... it's the Holidays after all..."

"_Uncle Sev!" _

The chambers now echoed with Davy's loud voice.

"I really don't think Potter wants you as a father, but that's only _my _opinion—you know, you walk too fast—Uncle Sev, will you slow down?"

Davy stopped talking once he caught sight of Sirius and Harry sitting on the couch.

"Oh, hullo," he greeted.

"What are you doing?" Severus was looking at Harry, waiting, expecting an answer—and all Harry could do was stand up, stare and try to come up with the right words to say. Except nothing came to mind. He just stood there, not moving a muscle. Staring.

"Did he lose his voice, Uncle Sev?" Davy asked Severus in a whisper.

Sirius stood up next to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Harry did _not _lose his voice," he replied for Harry. "He was just merely waiting for his father."

"Uncle Sev isn't his _real _father," Davy told Sirius with a sharp nod of his head. "Uncle Sev only _adopted _him, so technically..."

"Technically," Sirius interrupted, "Snape _still _is Harry's father, Mr. Brighton.

"Anyway, Harry was just waiting for his _father _to come to his chambers because Harry didn't want to keep ignoring Snape, and wanted to be… you know, father/son again for the holidays," Sirius explained.

"Why isn't Potter saying this for himself?" Davy questioned.

Sirius frowned. "Well, because, Harry... he's... hello?" Sirius tried to get a better look at Harry's—who stood there, frozen and remaining mute—face. "Well, Harry's sort of... out of it at the moment," Sirius continued. He began to shake Harry's shoulder.

"Hey kiddo, you in there?"

"Huh?" Startled, Harry looked up at Sirius.

"Ah, there!" Sirius turned back towards Davy. "See? He's back." Sirius glanced at Harry once more. "So, go on, Harry. Tell Snape what you wanted to say."

Letting out a breath, Harry stared at Severus. "I… um, the holidays are soon, you know," he started off awkwardly. "It's very… snowy out. White. Because… snow is white… and cold," Harry looked around the room to avoid the gazes—Sirius was confused, Davy was looking at Harry as if he'd just sprouted another head, and yet Severus's gaze remained impassive.

"Usually, sometimes, snow isn't white though," awkwardly, Harry continued. "It can be yellow, but…" Harry turned his gaze on Davy. "What did you _me__an _that I don't want Severus as a father?" he demanded. "Where did you get that idea? It's... ridiculous!"

"It's true," Davy answered matter-of-factly.

"It is not!" Harry scowled.

"Harry," Sirius said comfortingly, "just drop it, OK? We all know that you care a lot for Snape, and that's why you want to make up with him."

"I've got to go," Harry said abruptly, and without anything else to say, he quickly walked past Severus and Davy and out the portrait hole.

-

"Don't be so glum, Harry," Nicholas said brightly. "Let's go outside with Hermione and Isabelle and hit them with snow, huh? That should cheer you up."

Harry considered the idea before replying. "Yeah, OK, sounds like fun."

Nicholas grinned. "Oh, you bet. Come on, I'm sure we'll beat them good!"

Momentarily pushing his thoughts aside, Harry put his winter clothing on and then followed Nicholas outside.

It was a grey day, with bits of snowflakes falling from the sky.

"Glad you've come to join us!" Isabelle, not far away from where Harry and Nicholas were standing, yelled. Her face was red and wet with snow.

"Ah, we couldn't resist!" Nicholas hollered back. "So what type of team will this be?"

"Me and Isabelle," Hermione said, "against you and Harry!"

Nicholas grinned as he and Harry drew closer to Isabelle and Hermione.

But before Harry could say anything, he felt a snowball hit him on the back. Startled, Harry turned around.

It was Severus.

"Professor?" So used to having called Severus that lately, Harry didn't even notice that he hadn't called him Dad. Then again, he hadn't used that title lately.

Harry furrowed his brow, glancing at his friends before walking over to Severus. "Are you out with Davy?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'm out on my own," Severus answered. "You see Mr. Potter, I'm looking for my son. The holidays are coming, and I don't want to spend them not talking to him. I believe his name is Mr. Potter-_Snape._ Do you know where I might find him?"

Harry nodded. "Why yes sir, I do. Do you want me to get him?"

"As a matter of fact, do go fetch him," Severus replied.

Harry cleared his throat. "All right Dad, what can I do for you?"

"What ever has been going on," Severus started, "I would like to finish now. I want to be on speaking terms with you, and I want to spend the holidays with you as well."

"I want that too," Harry agreed softly.

"So we're on speaking terms again," Severus said slowly.

Harry nodded.

"You won't get too annoyed with Brighton, which would result in you doing something you would regret and eventually lead to detentions?"

Slowly, Harry nodded again, watching Severus's back as he turned and walked away.

Then Harry bent down, taking a handful of snow and rolling it into a ball. He bent his arm back and threw the snowball, hitting Severus directly in the back of the head.

The potions master slowly turned around.

And that's how the snowball fight between Severus and Harry happened.

Farther away from the two, Hermione put a hand on Nicholas's shoulder as the boy had stepped forward.

"Leave them, Nicholas," Hermione said, a smile flickering on her face. "They need this. Just leave them."

-

Christmas was a happy occasion. Maybe because he had Sirius back, or maybe because he and Severus were talking again; maybe even because he got to spend it with Sirius, Severus and Remus.

Perhaps all of the above.

It was one present, however, that surprised Harry the most. It could've possibly been because of the fact that Sirius and Severus had bought the gift together.

"Wow," Harry had breathed as he unwrapped it. "A—a_ Firebolt?"  
_  
"Your other broom sort of had that bad incident with the lightning, remember?" Sirius said.

Harry had grinned. "Of course I do."

"There's also _one _other thing," Sirius had continued after glancing at Severus.

"Go on," Severus said with a nod.

"Snape has _finally_ decided to get a heart and agree to let me move in with you two," Sirius explained. "So be prepared for a lot more of me!"

"Wow."

Harry's Christmas really seemed to be getting even better as it progressed.

"I'm not too struck on this," Severus added. "I was only thinking of you when I gave Black my answer."

"Thank you," Harry had said to them both honestly.

After Harry had eaten the Christmas feast in the Great Hall, Sirius had hurried Harry down to Remus's chambers, where Sirius said that Remus was waiting to show Harry how the Marauder's Map worked.

"All right Remus, show him," Sirius said excitedly, shoving the Map into Remus's hands.

Remus took out his wand and tapped the parchment lightly. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Then everything began to fade in, and then curly green words began to appear on the very top:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs  
__Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present  
THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

Harry watched intently, amazed, as tiny dots with everyone's name labeled underneath began roaming around the parchment.

"It's brilliant," Harry murmured, glancing up at the two. "I can't believe you made this."

Sirius gently took the parchment from Remus, looked at it, and then handed it over to Harry. "It's yours now, kiddo," he said. "We're passing it down."

Harry accepted the Map with a smile. "Thank you. It's... brilliant," Harry said again, giving both Sirius and Remus a hug. "You don't mind if I go find Dad now—"

"No no, just come back later, will you?" Sirius answered.

Harry grinned. "You can count on it."

-

Harry had wiped the parchment clean as he left Remus's chambers (they had told him to tap the parchment with his wand and say "Mischief managed!") and headed down to Severus's chambers, where he had seen Severus's dot—along with Davy's.

He tried not to feel a little pang of jealousy as he thought of Severus's nephew down in his chambers, talking away just like Harry had used to. Harry had remembered when Severus commented a while back that Davy talked just as much as Harry used to when he was nine and ten, and even sometimes currently. Harry couldn't believe that Severus had compared him to Davy Brighton.

Although, Harry had made _sure _to remind Severus that _nobody_—not even Davy Brighton—talked more than Harry himself did. _Especially _Davy Brighton.

-

"I know," Davy Brighton continued as he stood in front of his Uncle, "but I just want you to do _one _thing for me. During the summer. Please!"

"I won't say anything until you tell me what it is you want me to do," Severus answered. "Now out with it all ready, Mr. Brighton."

"I want to spend a week with you at your Manor. Maybe even a little more—but at least a week. It'll be _fun,_" Davy explained. "It's Christmas Uncle Sev, be nice! I mean, I haven't kept in touch with you for the _longest _while when I was with Mum and Grandma Day. But now that I started Hogwarts I see you almost all the time, and during the summer I want to get to know you even better."

"You do realize," Severus drawled, "that Harry and Sirius Black are also residing at my manor?"

"I know," Davy replied awkwardly. "But Sirius Black is Harry's godfather, right? So I thought since he's _back _that Harry would be spending most of his summer with _him _which would give _us_ time to spend together as well!"

"Mirabel Day would not agree to this at all," Severus pointed out. "There's absolutely no way, Mr. Brighton."

"Oh, I wrote her days ago!" Davy said eagerly. "I pleaded and pleaded and Grandma Day finally said that if you agreed to it that I could! She _also _told me to tell you that... she..." Davy looked down at his shoes as he shuffled his feet before looking back up. "She wants a monthly dinner with you and Harry."

Severus's skin seemed to lose all of its color until he was a deathly white. "Excuse me?"

Davy nodded. "A monthly dinner. Once every month over the summer she wants you and Harry to come to our place for dinner and you're to stay a _week._"

"Every month?" Severus repeated, hardly believing his ears. He'd never exactly met Mirabel Day—only perhaps once since his sister had began living with the lady, and even as he had spent five minutes in the same room he remembered he could barely handle even that.

"Every month," Davy repeated. "She only said you and Harry, so I'm not sure about—"

"Sorry," came a voice from the doorway. Davy spun around and saw Harry standing there. "I'm interrupting, aren't I? I'll go now."

"No, Harry you stay. Mr. Brighton and I have finished our conversation," Severus said, still looking pale.

"What?" Davy looked horrified. "Oh, I see, that's my cue to _leave _isn't it?" Davy gave a long, exaggerated sigh. "Fine, oh fine. I'll talk to you later; happy Christmas, Uncle Sev."

Harry stepped aside as Davy went through the portrait hole, casting Severus a guilty look.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to... never mind."

"Well," Severus started, "it seems that Mirabel Day wants a monthly dinner with us."

Harry frowned. "Monthly dinner? With me and you? Why not just you?"

Severus scowled. "Even if she did request it with just me, I'd still be bringing you along. There would be absolutely no way I'd be meeting her alone."

Harry smirked. "Are you telling me that you, Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, that—that you're scared of an old lady?"

The scowl remained on Severus's face. "I am not _scared _of Mirabel Day, let me assure you."

"OK, OK," Harry said, giving in. "I won't say anything else about you being scared of Mirabel Day."

Severus sighed. "Do you need something, Harry?"

"Well," Harry started off awkwardly, "I just thought that... we could talk... I mean we used to, but lately we haven't, but..."

"No it's fine, we can talk. Anything in mind?"

Harry shook his head. "Anything's fine... and Dad?"

"What is it?"

Harry paused before saying, "Happy Christmas."

Severus's features softened, momentarily forgetting about the monthly dinners he was to spend over the summer holidays with Mirable Day and Davy Brighton.

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

-

A/N: Until next time.


	30. Execution

**Chapter Eleven**

The Quidditch final was the first time Harry had actually used the Firebolt that he had received from Sirius and Severus. When he was up in the air on that broom... it just felt natural. It flew so well—and Harry couldn't help but beam as he had caught the Snitch, winning the Quidditch Cup and noticing Severus and Sirius's proud faces.

Although the two adults still didn't get along with each other, Harry could tell that both were trying their hardest not to argue over every little thing anymore around Harry, and he was grateful for that.

It was as Nicholas and Harry were in the library (Nicholas had convinced Harry to go with him) looking over notes for the exams that were coming up soon, that Isabelle and Hermione appeared before them.

"You should have gone to find me so I could study with you two," Hermione whispered as she sat down. "I'm trying to study as much as I can."

"It's official," Isabelle said, ignoring Hermione as she sat down as well. "The Hippogriff that attacked Draco Malfoy? They're going to _execute _it!"

Harry frowned, looking at Nicholas. "That's right, you told me about that attack."

"They can't do that," Hermione said firmly. "Did you see Hagrid? He looks so..."

"I don't really think there's anything we can do about it," Nicholas pointed out.

The firm look appeared on Hermione's face. "Well _I _want to do something about it. Buckbeak did not _attack _Malfoy; I was there, I saw with my own eyes."

"Was that what Hagrid called the Hippogriff?" Nicholas said, and then shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry Hermione, but… there's _nothing _we can do."

Hermione scowled. "You don't _know _that, do you? You and Harry have _always _been attracted to trouble, why don't you want to help me with this?"

"_Because there's nothing we can do!_" Nicholas repeated irritatedly for the third time. "_Honestly_, what don't you get about that?"

Hermione frowned. "There has to be something. I don't want to see Buckbeak get executed."

"Well then, _don't watch!_"

Hermione turned her attention towards Harry and gave him a look, one that pleaded for him to help her. What could Harry say? She _had _helped him with Sirius... and he'd be forever grateful for that, but perhaps... maybe he could at least _try _and help her, as she had with him?

"All right," Harry finally agreed. "I'll help you Hermione."

She flashed him a smile while Nicholas let out an agitated breath.

"Why do you want to help a Hippogriff anyways? Makes no sense."

"They are going to kill an innocent thing," Hermione answered with another scowl. "An innocent life is going to be taken. It's not fair."

"_Fine, _I'll come with you two and help with whatever you have planned, but only because Harry's going," Nicholas finally said.

"I want to come too!" Isabelle piped up from beside Hermione.

Nicholas firmly shook his head. "No, Isabelle, it might be dangerous and there's a good chance we might even get caught; no, you stay."

Isabelle frowned. "But I want to come help you!"

"I know you do," Harry said. "Just listen to what Nicholas's saying, Isabelle. We might get into trouble, or something else could happen and he doesn't want you to get hurt."

Isabelle pondered this quietly before speaking up again. "Will you tell me all about it when you get back?" she finally asked hopefully.

Nicholas broke out into a grin. "'Course, Tink. This is for your own good y'know."

Isabelle paled. "_What _did you just call me?"

Nicholas stared at Isabelle, then gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Isabelle, it came out." He glanced at Harry, adding, "It was a nickname I gave her when she was little."

"All right Hermione, we'll do this," Harry started quietly, so nobody else in the library could overhear them. "We'll all meet later today before this execution and I'll bring my cloak—"

"It's a _really _good cloak," Nicholas interrupted with a grin.

"—and then we'll go down to Hagrid's and figure out something to do," Harry finished.

Hermione looked quietly between Nicholas and Harry before saying, "I'll try to come up with something beforehand. Thanks you guys."

Harry watched as Hermione quickly left the library, a thoughtful, pondering look on her face—and he knew that she would, most likely, come up with an idea before they had went down to Hagrid's hut later that day.

"I still don't understand why she wants to save that Hippogriff," Nicholas said with a frown. "I mean... it's _just a Hippogriff!_"

Harry glanced at Nicholas. "That's just your Slytherin side talking."

"You three will be careful won't you?" Isabelle whispered suddenly. "You'll try not to get caught?"

Nicholas reached over the table and patted her shoulder lightly. "We're always careful, Isabelle."

-

It was sunset as Harry, Nicholas and Hermione began to make their way towards Hagrid's hut. Harry had the Invisibility Cloak hidden down his shirt just in case they might happen to run into anybody (like a Professor) on their way there—and they did.

"Dad," Harry blurted out as a dark figure stepped in front of the three in the corridor. He began to shake his head. "Professor Snape."

Severus gave them all a slow, suspicious look. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," Nicholas said quickly. "It's just... Hermione."

Hermione's eyes widened, as she gave Nicholas a horrified look. "What _about _me?"

Nicholas glanced back at her before looking back at Severus. "It's Hermione, she likes to look at the sunset," he explained rather poorly. "She just wanted us to come with her. 'Cause girls are into that stuff, right? Puppies, and... furry things... and—and unicorns with rainbows coming out of their butts and—"

Mouth slightly parted, and looking a deathly white, it was Nicholas's turn to give Harry a horrified look. "I didn't just say that, did I? Please say I didn't, Harry," he pleaded, his voice cracking. Harry only bit his lip to keep from snorting at the look on Severus's face.

Closing his eyes, Nicholas looked back up at his Potions Professor.

"Girls like that stuff," Nicholas finished, looking away as his ashen face turned a pinkish color.

"What he means to say," Harry said, "is that Hermione wanted to go visit Hagrid before the... what was it, Buckbeak? Before the execution, and wanted to know if we wanted to come along with her so she wouldn't be alone." Harry gave Nicholas a look. "Why couldn't you just come out and say it?"

Severus all gave them another one of his piercing looks before saying, "You are, however, _not staying _during the execution, correct?"

Though it came out as a question, Harry knew that it was more of a command.

"Yes," Harry agreed quickly with a nod. "We're just going to visit Hagrid, and then straight back."

Harry squirmed under Severus's gaze, one that Harry knew well. It meant that Severus didn't quite believe him.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," Severus said to Harry before slowly walking away.

"That was close," Nicholas whispered as they continued, "He didn't believe us though, did he?"

Harry gave his head a quick shake. "I don't think so." He pulled the cloak out. "I think now would be the time to put it on."

The three quickly walked down to Hagrid's hut, invisible, until they reached the doorway. Hermione knocked on the door.

"It's Hermione," she hissed, "and Harry and Nicholas. Let us in Hagrid, please."

"Wha'?" The door swung open to reveal Hagrid, looking around with a confused look on his face. "Where are yeh?"

Hermione was the one to take the cloak off as soon as they walked in. "We've come to help you Hagrid," she explained. "Nicholas and I... we were there, and Buckbeak didn't attack _anybody._"

"There's nothin' yeh three can do," Hagrid said. "I don' wan' yeh watchin'—go back ter the castle, why don' yeh?"

"But Hagrid, we can help," Hermione insisted eagerly. Harry gave a nod to back her up. "I have a plan."

Without waiting for a reply from Hagrid, she quickly walked over to the window and glanced out. She saw them coming down the walk.

"Good," she said, her voice lower than before. "They saw Buckbeak." She whirled around to face Hagrid. "All right, Hagrid, you just try to stall them for a little, all right?"

There was a loud knock on Hagrid's door.

"Go, go," Hagrid whispered, shooing them out. Hermione, Nicholas and Harry threw the cloak over their heads and quietly went out through the back way.

"So whats your brilliant plan?" Nicholas hissed as they hid behind a large pumpkin.

Hermione didn't answer, but waited until nobody was looking before she ran out from under the cloak and slowly went up to the tethered Hippogriff.

She bowed down low, lifting her head up to see if the Hippogriff bowed back. When he did, she hurriedly began to fumble with the rope that tied it to the fence—but when she wanted Buckbeak to move, he didn't budge.

She glanced up to see Cornelius Fudge's back still to the window, then gave Harry and Nicholas a desperate look.

"I don't know what to do," Harry whispered to Nicholas. "I was sick that class."

"I don't know either; I wasn't really paying attention!"

Harry pulled the Cloak off his head and went over to Hermione, taking the rope away from her and tugging on it. The voices from Hagrid's hut made Harry more than a little anxious as the Hippogriff didn't want to move.

"Come on, come on," Harry muttered, tugging the rope again. Finally, Buckbeak broke into a trot as they all disappeared into the Forest.

Hermione and Nicholas all helped Harry with the rope, since it seemed Buckbeak wanted to go back to Hagrid.

"I've got the Invisibility Cloak," Nicholas said they walked deeper into the Forest. "I've also got bad news."

Harry's heart sank. "About the Cloak?"

"No," Nicholas answered. "Somebody's following us."

Harry stopped, turning around to look at Nicholas. "_What?_"

"I saw them," Nicholas said hurriedly as they resumed walking. "It was only one person, though, but they were coming down from the castle."

"We've got to get Buckbeak away from here," Hermione said, whether she had heard what Nicholas said was unbeknownst to Harry. "Maybe we could get him to fly away?"

"Brilliant idea," Nicholas said with a touch of sarcasm. "You worry about _that _while Harry and I worry about getting caught."

Nicholas's faced paled a little as he took a look around. "Harry," he started quietly, though Harry had no idea why he was talking in almost a whisper for, "where are we?"

Harry turned and began to look around. Hagrid's hut had definitely went out of view, and all Harry could see was miles and miles of trees—although Hogwarts had to be somewhere, didn't it? They just didn't seem to be near the school at the moment...

Harry was caught off guard by a sudden gust of wind. He turned back around and saw Buckbeak up in the air, then looked back at Hermione who was glowing with triumph.

"We did it," she said excitedly, beaming at the two. "We saved an innocent creature from getting murdered tonight! Look at him, flying away to his freedom."

"Just hope that nobody catches him," Nicholas spoke up. "Or this would be all for nothing. Now Hermione, we need your cleverness. Tell us which way back to Hogwarts, would you?"

Hermione, still in a good mood, looked all around her. "It looks the same," she said finally. "It all looks the same."

"Oh, great!" Nicholas threw his hands up in the air. "You know, I think we actually came in from that way."

He pointed in front of him.

"Or we could've come in from any direction," Harry pointed out. "I wasn't really paying attention to what direction, though."

"Well I saw somebody following us," Nicholas said. "They'll probably find us and help us back. Sure, we might get a detention, but at least we won't be stuck in the middle of the woods."

"And at least we helped save Buckbeak," Hermione added.

Nicholas sighed, the cloak still in his hand as he tugged the two forward. "Come on, we might as well walk."

"If we walk nobody will be able to find us," said Hermione. "We should stay in the same place until someone does."

"If we keep walking," Nicholas said slowly, "we might walk right towards them, you never know. Now, onwards!"

Nicholas gave Harry back the Invisibility Cloak before they saw somebody emerging from the trees.

"All right," Nicholas said, "maybe we didn't have to walk, but at least somebody found us."

Harry squinted, trying to see who the person was. He was able to know, however, when a familiar voice called out, "Harry!"

-

A/N: Ooh... next chapter soon!


	31. The Forest

**Chapter Twelve**

"_Remus?_" Harry called, and sure enough, as the person drew closer, it was Remus Lupin. "What are you doing?"

Remus Lupin had an annoyed look on his face. "Well I came looking for you! I met Severus and Sirius in the corridor, and Severus told me that you were at Hagrid's, and I thought you were going to watch the execution; I didn't want that to happen, so I came out to find you and… I didn't know you were going to try and _free _the Hippogriff!"

"Oh, we tried, Professor, and we did it!" Hermione said excitedly. "Buckbeak's free now… but the thing is, we're lost."

"I think I found you three this way," Remus said, leading them forward. "I know this forest pretty well."

Harry looked up at Remus as he followed him. "Professor Lupin—Remus—where are Dad and Sirius?"

"I think they may've followed as well," Remus explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up too." He looked up at the bare sky through the trees. "It's getting dark out."

"I bet it's gonna be even more difficult to find our way back when it gets darker," Nicholas said.

"We have our wands," Hermione pointed out. "We can use them to light our way if it gets too dark out, Nicholas."

Harry looked up at the sky. The moon was just fading into view now. Heartbeat quickening, he went up beside Remus and whispered to him, "Look at the moon, Remus."

It was full, and Harry watched as Remus paled.

"We have to get out of here quickly."

Harry stared at Remus in alarm. He could hear the hint of panic in Remus's voice.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning. "Dad made you the potion, didn't he? He always does—"

Remus was now a deathly white. "I forgot to take it," he whispered. "I'm not safe tonight, that's why we have to go back—get you back to the castle—"

"So you can take the potion," Harry interrupted.

"What potion?" Nicholas asked, stepping up beside Harry. He frowned at Remus. "Hey—you're going the wrong way, you said forward! Why are you turning right?"

"Remus," Harry said, giving his Professor a look. "Calm down, the moon's not completely out yet. We have lots of time, you just need to remember the way back to the castle."

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked as she observed how shaky Remus was becoming.

"There's a full moon tonight," Harry explained to them quietly. Hermione seemed to catch on quickly.

"You mean he's a… werewolf?"

Nicholas looked at Harry in alarm. "W—whats wrong? Is something going to happen if he doesn't take this potion?"

"It's called the Wolfsbane Potion," Harry explained as they stopped walking, so Remus could remember what way to turn. "My Dad makes it for Remus on the full moon. He still turns into a wolf, but if he takes the potion he can retain control over his actions, what they do, instead of being… well, out-of-control."

"And he didn't take the potion," Hermione finished. Harry nodded.

"This way," Remus suddenly said distractedly, quickly walking forward.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head. "No, I'm not, but we have to try."

"Wait," Harry said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. He listened closely, intensely. He could hear something distant… yet it was becoming closer…

"What?" Nicholas said, breaking the silence. Harry shushed him with a wave of his hand, letting the silence resume.

"There, do you hear it?" Harry said as the voices grew louder and much more distinct. "They're coming closer."

"Who is it?" Nicholas asked, while Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Somebody coming to save us," Harry replied with a grin, glancing back up into the sky. "It went dark quickly. Or maybe a lot of time has passed and we just didn't know—"

"_Harry!_"

Spinning around, Harry let out an "Oomph" as Sirius bolted forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry.

"What were you thinking?" Sirius asked after he let go of Harry. "These Forests aren't safe. Are you _mental?"_

"Sorry," Harry said. "But we have to go back to the castle _now. _Remus didn't take his potion tonight, and it's a full moon! Where's Dad?"

"Oh." Sirius glanced behind him. "Well, we both went looking for you when Remus left, and then I sort of ran ahead of him, so he should be somewhere back there. I'm just glad you're _safe._" He turned to Remus. "Now let's get you back to Hogwarts, Moony."

Sirius began to lead them through the Forest back to the castle, and for the third time that day Harry heard his name being called again, just as before with Sirius and Remus, except this time it came from Severus.

"Dad!" Harry's voice, however, was muffled as Severus began to smother him. "You can let go now," Harry said, though he returned Severus's hug. "So does this mean that you're not going to get mad that I lied to you about all this?"

Harry watched as Severus pulled away and gave Harry one of his silent stares—the kind that made Harry squirm—before he said, "No, I am unquestionably _exasperated _with you, but we'll deal with that when we get back to Hogwarts."

Harry quickly glanced at Remus, who was still looking pale and shaky, before looking up into the sky. It had turned dark quickly—but where was the moon? Harry couldn't locate it at that moment, but decided to forget about it and follow Severus and Sirius out of the Forest so they could safely go back to Hogwarts, where Remus would take his potion and—

A light ahead of them leaked into view. Harry looked up again, and he himself began to pale as the grey clouds began to move, revealing the silvery moon.

"Come on, Remus," came Sirius's voice, "look, we're almost back at Hogwarts… hang in there, Moony."

Hogwarts came into view. It wasn't too far away from where they were—if only the moon hadn't come out at that time, Harry had a feeling that they could've made it back to the castle in time.

Harry took a step back, away from Remus, as he began to transform into a werewolf. He heard Hermione give a strangled squeak as she stepped beside Harry. Remus's transformation, Harry noted, looked excruciatingly painful. Just the look in Remus's eyes… Harry could almost feel Remus's pain radiating off of him.

Severus had stepped in front of the three students protectively before Sirius had yelled over his shoulder to take them back to Hogwarts while he tried to help Remus. Severus hadn't hesitated.

"But Sirius, and Remus—" Harry argued, not moving from his spot. Severus whipped around, giving Harry another piercing look. Harry, rather reluctantly, followed Severus, Nicholas and Hermione up to Hogwarts.

-

"Oh, it's all my fault," Hermione said tearfully. She, Nicholas and Harry sat, impatiently, in Severus's chambers.

"No it's not," Nicholas answered. "I mean, you didn't _know _at the time that Lupin was a werewolf, did you? You couldn't possibly have reminded him to take that potion tonight."

"But I insisted that you help me with Buckbeak," Hermione pointed out, wiping her eyes. "Then Professor Lupin followed us, and if I'd just left it alone, none of this would've happened."

"That's a good point," Nicholas reconsidered, staying quiet after that.

Harry sighed. "Look Hermione, it isn't your fault." He tried to think of something else encouraging to say, but at the moment, he couldn't. He was too busy wondering when Severus would come back to tell Harry how Sirius and Remus were.

The three fell into another blanket of silence. Harry kept his eyes glued on the portrait hole, impatiently hoping that any second Severus would appear…

"I hope Sirius and Professor Lupin are OK," Hermione said softly.

Harry glanced over at her, and then over at Nicholas, who gave him a small smile.

"Me too," Harry answered, deflating when he realized that Severus wasn't going to appear anytime soon. How long was it going to take for the Potions Master to return?

-

Harry didn't know what time it was when he felt somebody shaking his shoulder. Blinking rapidly and sitting up, Harry noticed that it was Severus.

"How are they?" Harry asked quickly, and rather loudly. Severus scowled and motioned to Nicholas, who had fallen asleep in the armchair, and Hermione, who had fallen asleep on the other side of the couch.

Harry followed Severus into his bedroom, where he shut the door and Harry repeated his question once more.

"Lupin and Black are fine," Severus answered, "Black is currently resting in the hospital wing, and Lupin is deep in the Forest. He'll be sent for when he transforms back."

"I need to go see Sirius," Harry said, trying to find a way past Severus, since his father was blocking the only way out of the bedroom. He didn't have much luck, however.

"No, you need to sleep. I just thought you'd want to know."

"I _did_," Harry argued, "but now I want to go see Sirius and make sure he's okay."

Severus looked annoyed, his black eyes glinting, almost daring Harry to argue anymore with him. "Black is resting, Harry, and I suggest you do the same. You can visit him in the morning."

Harry sighed before eventually nodding. Severus stepped aside, letting Harry past. Walking back over to the couch, Harry sat back down and let his head rest against the armrest.

"Don't worry, Harry," Severus said softly as Harry pushed over a little, letting Severus sit down by him. "Both of them will be fine."

Harry sighed as he closed his eyes, feeling safe with Severus's warm presence beside him. "I believe you."

-

Early the next morning, the first thing Harry did was go down to the hospital wing to visit Sirius and Remus. Both looked pale, cut and bruised.

"Hey, kiddo."

Harry sat down on the edge of Sirius's bed and smiled down at his godfather. Sirius's voice was a little raspy, but his eyes were still bright.

"Hi Siri. How're you feeling? Better?"

"I'm getting better," Sirius admitted. "Does Snape know you're here?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"All right," Sirius sat himself up, wincing a little as he did.

"I'm sorry for all of this happening," Harry said. "I didn't mean for all three of you to follow us…—"

Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the boy abruptly stopped talking.

"Don't apologize," he started. "And don't feel guilty about it either." He gave Harry a playful look and smile. "Now, I _demand _that we talk about something else."

Harry looked over at the bed that Remus lay asleep in.

"How's he doing?" Harry questioned.

"He'll be fine," Sirius said quietly. "You know, he's looked worse."

Harry fell into a comfortable silence with Sirius, just staring at his godfather, thankful that he was all right.

"So, my little Slytherin," Sirius said, shattering their veil of silence, "shouldn't you be having breakfast in the Great Hall?"

"_Yeah,_" Harry said slowly, drawing out the word. "But can't I stay here with you instead?"

Sirius gave Harry a look. "Do you honestly think that Snape would like that? Besides, aren't you hungry?"

"Yeah," Harry repeated, this time reluctant. He stood up. "I'll be back after though."

"You better."

-

Harry didn't understand. Did Remus get sacked? He had asked all of his questions as soon as he arrived in Remus's classroom, to find Remus packing up all of his things, but so far Remus had remained quietly, looking like he wasn't in much of a hurry to answer Harry's questions.

"Remus." Harry repeated the name. "Please tell me what's going on."

Remus sighed and looked up. He looked much better than he had when he was asleep in the hospital wing, Harry noticed. "

"I resigned, Harry," he explained in a quiet voice. "It's too dangerous, being a werewolf and… teaching. What if something like this happens again, except that next time I might hurt somebody? _Seriously _hurt somebody?"

"Who says there will be a next time?" Harry cried. "You never know, there might not! What if something like this _doesn't _happen again?"

"I'm not taking the chances," Remus answered. He gave Harry a warm smile. "I should find Sirius before I go."

"Stay in touch, Professor," Harry said, giving in. He returned Remus's smile. "Do you mind if I go with you to find Sirius? He's probably in your chambers."

"I wouldn't mind at all," said Remus as Harry followed him out of the classroom, which was now looking depressingly empty, Harry found.

He could only wonder who the professor for next year would be.

-

Harry stood in King's Cross Station with Sirius while Nicholas, Isabelle and Hermione all boarded Hogwarts Express.

"We'll write to you," Isabelle called out of her window. "'Specially about the Quidditch World Cup—I don't think Nicholas would want to miss that!"

"See you over the summer!" Nicholas called as the train started to move.

"I'll write to you too, Harry. Hope you have fun with Sirius back this summer." Hermione had flashed him a smile, which he had happily returned.

"Interesting friends you've got there," Sirius said as he watched the three faces disappear along with the train. "A Gryffindor too, huh? Very interesting."

Harry grinned. "Yeah."

Sirius then let out a breath. "So, back to Snape's huh? The _whole _entire summer… with Snape…"

"You'll have fun," Harry said brightly, trying not to laugh as Sirius groaned dramatically. "I'll be there too you know, but—" Then, Harry let out his own groan. "I have that _thing _this summer!"

Sirius frowned. "What 'thing'?"

"The thing with Davy Brighton and his Grandmother and the dinner," Harry explained with a scowl.

"You'll have fun," Sirius said, brightly repeating Harry's earlier words. "Come on now, Snape'll get his panties in a twist if I keep you any longer. This is one interesting summer we're going to have, isn't it?"

Harry could only groan again.

-

A/N: Thanks everybody! Next chapter should be up soon.


	32. Jealousy

**Chapter Thirteen**

The Snape Manor hadn't changed much from the last summer Harry was there. It seemed the town hadn't changed much either. Sirius still couldn't believe that Severus Snape lived in such a_… colorful _town.

"That woman is unbelievable," Severus growled at the dinner table early in the morning. "Inviting us to a_ monthly _dinner! At least we can get out of _this _month since Brighton is spending the week here…"

Harry exchanged a glance with Sirius. Severus had been going on about this for the past four minutes since they had all came down to the table.

"I thought she hated you Snape," Sirius spoke up. "Why would she let her grandson stay with you?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Severus announced abruptly. "Brighton will be here soon."

But Harry could still hear Severus mutter about "The _nerve!_" as he excused himself from the table.

"This is going to be interesting," Sirius said to Harry cheerfully. "Can't wait to see what Davy Brighton is like, other than what I've seen of him at Hogwarts. I wonder if his grandmother is a Muggle or not?"

Harry, though, already knew what Davy Brighton was like, and he didn't completely like it.

-

"I hate this," Harry said to Sirius later that day. Davy Brighton had arrived a few minutes earlier, and since then tried to spend most of his time with his _Uncle Sev._

"Don't worry about it kiddo," Sirius said with a comforting grin. "At least this gives us a chance to hang out."

Harry grinned back. He and Sirius sat in the living room, while Severus and Davy were somewhere else in the house.

He didn't answer Sirius that quickly, however. Though he was glad that he would be able to spend time with his godfather, he did feel a pang of jealousy in his gut as he thought about Davy spending all this time with Severus.

Harry was about to answer when Davy appeared in the doorway of the living room, looking cheerful.

"Lunch is ready," he informed them. "Come on."

He waited rather impatiently for Sirius and Harry to get up and follow him.

When Harry reached the dining room, he could only stare at Davy. Standing in front of the dining table as Sirius took his seat, Harry could only say, "Fish."

This caused the three to stare blankly at Harry.

"Excuse me?" Severus looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Fish," Harry repeated. "I—I need fish. For Syther. He… likes it, just like Nathaniel used to," Harry explained poorly.

"Well… I suppose you could check the kitchens—"

Harry turned around, hardly bothering to go to the kitchens. Instead, he was heard _loudly _going up the stairs.

Sirius pushed his chair back and stood up. Without saying a thing, he followed Harry up into the boys' room.

"Harry?"

Harry jumped, spinning around to see Sirius standing in the doorway with a puzzled look on his face.

"Did you see him?" Harry hissed. "Sitting in the same spot I _always _sit at the table? Drinking from _my mug?_"

"Oh Harry, he's only been here twenty minutes and already you're possessive?"

"That's not it," Harry argued. "Dad didn't even seem to _care._"

"Harry…" Sirius hesitated, trying to come up with something to say. "Davy Brighton is Snape's nephew and… and a guest. I guess…"

Looking slightly hurt, Harry said, "Dad's replacing me."

Even Sirius looked surprised at that comment.

"Harry, if anything's for sure, it's that there's _no way _Snape is replacing you. Why would he do that? You, my little Slytherin, can _never _be replaced by _anyone._"

"Brighton and Dad have something in common that he and I never will," Harry explained slowly. "That's the fact that they are related _by blood._"

"Harry, there's more to relationship than the bond of _blood._ Even if you aren't Snape's son by blood he still… loves you."

Harry was quiet for a moment before saying, "Was it hard?"

Sirius looked momentarily confused. "Was what hard?"

Harry smirked. "Admitting that Dad loves me. It looked like it took a lot of effort."

Sirius merely grinned. "Let's go back down and have lunch, all right, kid? Don't let it bother you that Davy's sitting in your place."

"That was the chair closest to Dad," Harry mumbled as he let Sirius lead him out of the bedroom and down the flight of stairs.

"You can sit in the one by me," Sirius said lightly. "Then when Davy leaves you can go back to your original place. Just _don't_ let him bug you."

"Are you feeling well, Harry?" Severus asked cautiously as Harry calmly sat down.

"Oh yes," Harry said, not bothering to look at Davy. "Syther's happy. I'm happy. All is—"

"Happy?" Davy guessed, earning a swift glare from Harry.

"Yes. _Happy._"

"That's good," Davy said with a nod. "I'm happy too. Did Uncle Sev tell you that he said I was _very talented _in potions? We made one down in…" Davy glanced at Severus, furrowing his brow. "What is that place downstairs called? The place where you make your potions?" Davy shrugged. "Anyway, it was _brilliant_! I was really pleased with it."

"That's good," Harry said curtly with a nod. "What do you two have planned for the rest of today?"

"Ooh, we have _lots _to do with only the week I'm allowed to stay. Then of course, we do have the week that you and Uncle Sev come over for dinner this summer, so that'd give Uncle Sev and me even _more _time to spend with each other."

"And how I'm looking forward to it. I can hardly wait," Severus said sarcastically, though Davy really didn't seem to notice.

"So what're you and Sirius doing today?" Davy asked Harry, his eyebrows raised as he waited for an answer.

"I—I don't know," Harry admitted.

"Well, since me and Uncle Sev are gonna be spending time with each other, I 'sumed you'd be with Sirius," Davy explained.

"Right," Harry said slowly. He began to wonder when he'd be able to spend time with Severus, himself. Probably when the week was up, and Davy would have to go back home. Harry suddenly couldn't stand to wait for that day.

"We'll find something to do," Sirius spoke up cheerfully. "Wouldn't want Harry to be lonely with you taking up all of his fathers' time, that is."

Harry looked up at Sirius in surprise. He had noticed the blatant icy edge to Sirius's words as he spoke to Davy.

Davy smiled innocently, shaking his head. "Oh no, we wouldn't want that. But Uncle Sev isn't _really _Harry's father, now is he? Nope, he only just adopted him, so really he wouldn't be Harry's _father, _just a type of figure, am I right? Harry also uses that title—'Dad' I mean—towards Uncle Sev just 'cause—"

"You know," Sirius interrupted loudly, "this is really good food. Who's the house-elf that made this again?"

"Morwen," Harry answered quickly. "And yes, this _is _really good food."

For the rest of the time at the table, Harry had to refrain himself from jumping across the table and strangling Davy Brighton as the conversation had remained pretty much the same. Besides, Sirius had a pretty good grip on Harry's arm to keep him from doing just that, too.

-

"A picnic."

Startled, Harry looked up to see Sirius standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Er—the owl flies at night?"

A confused look crossed Sirius's face. "_Huh?_"

Turning pink, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I thought you were talking in code or something. What do you mean, 'a picnic'?"

"Us, a picnic," Sirius explained. "How about it? It'd be much better than you being up here all alone and quiet while Snape and Brighton are downstairs."

"I've got a Syther," Harry pointed out, but he stood up. "So I'm not _that _alone. A picnic, though? Really?"

Sirius nodded. "Oh yeah. I've got Morwen making us stuff to eat; all we need to do is put it in a basket and find someplace nice to go. It'd give you a chance to get out of the house…. Away from a certain Professor's nephew who you _really _don't like too well…"

"Yes, yes and yes!" Harry interrupted quickly, running up to Sirius. "When? Now?"

Sirius nodded again. "Only if you want to, kiddo."

"_Yes!_" Harry repeated. "Come on, hurry now, Sirius," Harry said as he raced down the stairs.

With Severus knowing where they were going, and the food Morwen had made them all packed tightly into a little basket Sirius had amazingly found, Harry and Sirius stepped out of the Snape mansion and into the afternoon sunlight.

As he started to quietly walk beside Sirius, Harry began to feel guilty, and he started to wonder why. Was it because Sirius and Harry were doing something that excluded Severus? The Potions Master did, however, have Davy Brighton to keep him company…

"Sirius," Harry spoke suddenly as he stopped walking. "I have to go invite them, Sirius. You don't mind, do you? I just… y'know…"

Sirius smiled. "No, no go ahead. I'll wait here."

Harry raced back into the Manor, hoping to find Severus and Brighton somewhere in the big house. He did end up finding them in the living room, talking.

"Do you remember the last time you visted me? And Mum?" Davy questioned casually. "I was about five or so. You know… you used to like me back then, even just a little."

Harry watched from behind the door as Severus frowned, looking uncertain as to how he was going to answer that statement. "Was it said that I didn't _like _you?"

"Not really," Davy said quickly. "It's just—"

There was a sigh from Severus, and then Harry heard a— "_Harry._"

Harry stumbled forward, his eyes widening slightly as he straightened up and cleared his throat, standing in front of Severus and Davy Brighton.

"_Yes, _Harry?"

"Uh—" Harry coughed, his cheeks turning pink. "Er… I forgot the jam."

Severus only gave him a look, and Harry began to elaborate.

"Jam," Harry repeated. "For the… Gnomes."

"Gnomes," Severus drawled. "_Garden _gnomes? The ones the Jacksons have in their garden? Why would a gnome need jam?"

"For their gnome-y needs," Harry explained quickly, the words stumbling off his tongue before he even gave thought as to what he was saying. The pink remained on his cheeks. "Very… very complicated… I'm going now."

Harry briefly closed his eyes as he heard Davy comment that he was "A very weird person" while he hastily left the Manor again, making his way back to where Sirius would be waiting for him. He mentally scolded himself for being so silly.

-

Everyone was asleep. Everyone except Harry. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling as he thought about today, about how glad he was that it was almost over, and how he wasn't wishing for tomorrow to come. He had passed Davy's bedroom on his way to his own bedroom, and he heard Severus in there. Harry had only paused long enough to see Severus give Davy—who looked to be fast asleep—a rather hesitant kiss on the forehead.

Harry found it rather out of character for Severus. After all, Severus had _never _showed Harry _that _type of affection before. So why was it _Davy_ that brought that type of emotion out in Severus? Harry sighed. He knew he was jealous of Davy Brighton. He just didn't know what to do about it.

Harry waited a little while longer for Severus to appear, and to maybe give Harry a kiss on the forehead, just as he had done with Davy. He hadn't appeared in the doorway though. So Harry gave up waiting. Was it that Severus felt more attached, or perhaps _loved _Davy a little more than Harry?

Harry knew that these thoughts and insecurities were silly, but he couldn't help feeling them. He was thirteen, and surely he wasn't jealous of _Davy Brighton, _who was younger than him—but, the thing that irritated him the most, was that he _was. _

Harry threw his blankets off and stood up, slowly tiptoeing towards Sirius's bedroom.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered as he stepped into the dark room. Remembering the nickname Remus had once used, Harry said, "Padfoot?"

Sirius stirred. Harry walked over to the bed and shook Sirius gently. "_Paaddfoottt_… wake up."

"Harry?" Sirius mumbled, sitting up, though he was half asleep. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," Harry whispered. "Can you push over?"

Sirius did, letting room for Harry to lay down beside him. "Why can't you sleep, kiddo?"

"Dad _kissed_ Davy on the forehead. He's never done that to me before, and I've lived with him a lot longer than Davy has," Harry said with a scowl.

"Harry," Sirius started, and then seemed to give up with a sigh. "I'm tired, it's late and you must be tired and… I'll talk to Snape tomorrow, when it's early and sunny and when I'm not as cranky as right now and when I can actually form a proper sentence without using so much 'and's. Go to sleep, kiddo."

Harry let his head rest on Sirius's arm as he made his way under the blankets.

"Is it childish to be so jealous of Davy Brighton because I keep thinking that Dad is going to replace me with him?" Harry asked softly, but let it go when he looked up to see that Sirius had fallen asleep again.

"I don't think it is. Not really," Harry answered himself in the same soft voice. In moments he, too, had fallen asleep.

-

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	33. Mirabel Day

**Chapter Fourteen**

Five nights. It had been five nights that Davy had been staying at the Snape Manor, and Harry only had to endure two more days. Just two. Even if it was only two, however, he knew that they could feel like a lifetime to him.

"I just don't understand," Davy's voice said loudly as Harry came down the stairs on Saturday morning. "Why'd he have to go _now?_"

"I've already discussed this with you," Sirius said, sounding annoyed. "He just went out. That's all."

"Yeah, to get things for _Harry's _birthday. When is it, anyways?" Davy demanded.

"Thirty-six days," Harry answered immediately as he walked into the dining room. "What's going on?"

"Morning Harry," Sirius said, the annoyed tone in his voice quickly leaving.

"_Thirty-six days!_" Davy repeated, sounding bewildered. "Usually people only get them at least a _day _before the actual birthday, not _thirty-six _days before!"

"Maybe he needed an excuse to leave the house," Sirius muttered to himself before saying loudly, "He just thought that it might be forgotten, so he just went out to get what was needed now. It's no big deal Davy, people can get anything anytime they want to."

Davy sighed, resigning. "Oh fine."

Harry looked at the two in confusion. "We're talking about Dad right?"

"And how he went to get things for your party in _thirty-six _days," Davy added with a scowl. "He's mental…" Davy muttered that under his breath, but as he caught Harry's stare he said quickly, "Just don't tell him that I said that."

"I won't," Harry said, glancing at Sirius as his godfather sat down in a chair next to the dining table. He looked exhausted. He was probably exhausted from arguing with Davy, Harry thought.

"You know, we should really wait until Uncle Sev comes back to have breakfast," Davy said musingly. "Wouldn't really feel right starting without him, honestly. What do you think, Harry?"

"Fine," Harry said slowly, taken by surprise when Davy had asked Harry's opinion. "We can wait, I'm not really that hungry anyways."

Harry walked over and sat down next to Sirius. Sirius had his elbow on the table and his hand was holding his head up. He looked about ready to fall back asleep.

"Sirius,"Harry called out in a sing-song voice. "Why don't you go back to bed until Dad comes back, Padfoot? You look tired."

"'Zat obvious?" Sirius muttered incoherently, his eyes still closed.

"No not _really,_" Harry said with a grin.

With a sigh, Sirius blinked a few times and stood up. He didn't walk up the stairs to go to his bedroom however, instead he walked into the living room and sprawled out on the couch. Harry could've sworn that he had heard Sirius call a, "Going to bed." over his shoulder.

"Guess he couldn't make it to the bed," Harry said, more to himself than to Davy. He tried to picture him and the Gryffindor having a conversation—a normal, friendly one—but Harry absolutely couldn't.

"I'm going out," Harry announced as he stood up. He blatantly ignored Davy as the boy began to ask several questions about where he was going.

The backyard of the Manor was so spacious and _green. _Harry hadn't spent much of his time out back, but Harry decided he'd use the opportunity now. There was a large lake in back as well, but as Harry drew closer to it and peered down, he noticed that it didn't look shallow, like lakes normally were. Instead, it looked deep. Very deep.

This caused Harry to become a bit uncomfortable as he dangled is feet in the water. He didn't have a clue how deep the "lake" actually was, but what if he fell in? Harry didn't know how swim, since nobody had ever really taught him.

"I didn't know Uncle Sev had a pool."

Harry jumped at the voice behind him.

"I don't think this is a pool," Harry said. "Just a really deep… lake. Or pond."

"In other words, a pool," Davy said. He didn't sit down beside Harry; instead, he stood behind him. "Have you ever went in it before? How deep is it?"

Harry pulled his legs out of the water and stood up to face Davy. "I dunno," he answered. "I don't really like water too much."

Davy frowned. "That's odd."

Harry gave Davy a look. "I… guess so."

"I don't understand you," Davy said suddenly, before they could go into an uncomfortable silence. "You're being so ungrateful towards Uncle Sev lately."

Harry scowled. "_What _are you on about?"

"Spending all your time with your godfather, that's what," Davy answered lightly. "How do you think Uncle Sev likes it?"

"_You're_ spending all _your _time with _my _Dad, that's why I'm spending time with Sirius. Besides, I like spending time with Sirius!" Harry argued, his cheeks turning pink with anger. "I'm _not _being ungrateful, Davy. I'm grateful for everything Severus has given me, so don't you dare say otherwise."

Davy frowned. "I don't like the way you're talking to me. Famous Harry Potter, aren't you? It's going to your head, isn't it—the fame? You think that just because people know your name that you can be all _superior_."

"That's not it at all," Harry snarled. "This has nothing to do with fame, nothing at all. In fact, I honestly don't _know _what this is about!"

"This is all because you're jealous," Davy answered smugly, "that Uncle Sev obviously has taken a better liking to me."

Harry snorted. "This is childish—I am _not _jealous. Of anyone. Or anything. I'm… perfectly content, thanks."

"Sure you are," Davy said. "'Cause you've got everything, right? Fame and family… a big head. Most likely from all the fame, if you ask me."

"The fame," Harry repeated. "Is _that _what this is about?"

"You think you can do anything, just 'cause you defeated you-know-who all those years ago," Davy said, scowling. "But I know one thing that you _can't _do."

Harry gave Davy an impatient look. "What's that?"

Harry heard Davy's answer, and it sounded a lot like "Swim." He couldn't tell for sure, though, because his ears started to fill with water, and he heard a loud ringing as he felt the water, like icy hands, clutching onto him and dragging him under. He frantically moved his hands, kicked his feet and twisted his body this way and that. Nothing seemed to work.

Davy was right. There was one thing he _couldn't _do, and that was swimming.

-

Davy stared in horror as he watched Harry fall through the surface of the water. He seemed to be going down… down… down—it didn't seem to stop. Where would it end? Davy tried to use his voice, but that wasn't working.

Ooh, he was going to get into _so _much trouble from Severus.

A loud, piercing noise that was Davy wailing began to fill the air, and then a loud shriek that was Davy yelling followed it. "Harry Potter's _dying!_"

There was a crash from inside the Manor, and then another crash as Sirius, looking pale and still rather sleepy, ran into the backyard.

"What?"

Davy pointed to the lake, his eyes glistening with tears. "Harry Potter's in the lake. He's dying. _Drowning._"

There wasn't any hesitation on Sirius's part. Davy held his arm out and looked away as he was suddenly splattered with water from the splash. With a few tearful gulps, Davy waited quietly until Sirius reached the surface again with Harry, who was blue and shaking.

"Don't just stand there," Sirius growled as he pulled Harry out of the water and set him on the grass. "Go get blankets, lots of them."

He turned his attention quickly back towards Harry, who was taking in many deep, shaky breaths. His lips were an icy looking blue.

"S—S—Sirius—"

"Don't talk," Sirius shushed the boy as he held Harry in his arms.

"S—s—swallowed t—too m—much water." Harry coughed.

Sirius looked up as Davy came out of the house again, holding a handful of blankets. Sirius hastily took them, wrapping each one around Harry carefully.

"That's it—getting warmer, kiddo?" Sirius looked up at Davy, all softness leaving his features._ "_What _happened?"  
_  
"I accidentally pushed Harry into the lake," Davy mumbled. "I wasn't thinking… and I was angry…"

Sirius, picked Harry up off the ground and clumsily walked back into the Manor, Davy quickly following.

"I'm not going to waste time punishing you, I'll leave that to Snape," Sirius said to Davy as he brought Harry into the living room. Sirius sat down, putting Harry on his lap with the blankets still tightly secured around Harry.

"You're just lucky that Harry wasn't in there long enough to actually drown," Sirius continued. "He could have _died._"

Sirius didn't bother to waste anymore of his breath on the Gryffindor boy as he hugged Harry tighter. Warmth was the best thing for Harry. He was just thankful that Harry _was _breathing when he had brought Harry out from the water; he didn't exactly know how to do RPS—or was it CPR? Sirius didn't remember at the moment.

"I—I'm c—cold," Harry said through chattering teeth. "Y—you are t—t—too."

Was it that obvious? Sirius nodded, trying to get Harry to stop talking. "Yes, yes I know. Let's just keep each other warm, okay, kiddo? Your Dad'll be back soon. I'm going to go get you some warm, dry clothes, I'll be right back."

Sirius had difficulty getting up, since Harry was on him, but he managed. With a dark look at Davy, Sirius told the boy to watch Harry as he went upstairs to get dry clothes for the shivering boy underneath the blankets.

-

Davy paced back and forth in the living room, keeping an eye on Harry. Why had he done that? Why had he pushed Harry into the water, when he knew perfectly well that the Slytherin didn't know how to swim? Of course, he hadn't known it _exactly _at the time, but he had a suspicion.

Oh, what would Severus say? He'd no doubt be mad. Angry.

"_What_ happened?"

It was quiet. So, _so _deadly quiet. It gave Davy goosebumps.

"I—it was an accident," Davy whispered, wishing that his Uncle was yelling instead of acting so… quiet. "I didn't mean to almost kill him."

In one swift movement, Severus was over by Harry's side, pulling the boy wrapped in thousands of blankets onto his lap.

"D—Dad."

"I've got your clothes, Harry," Sirius spoke from the doorway, quickly making his way over to Severus and Harry.

Harry shivered as, one by one, the blankets were pulled off him in order to put the dry clothes on.

"It's c—c—cold."

"I know, it'll be quick," Sirius said softly as he tugged off Harry's wet shirt. He gave Severus a look. "You better go with your nephew, Snape. The two of you have _lots _of catching up to do, if you ask me."

And for once, Severus had agreed with Sirius.

-

"It was an _accident!"_ Davy insisted as he stood in front of Severus. "I was angry and I wasn't thinking and I pushed him."

"Now to me, that doesn't sound much like an accident," Severus said coldly. "You could've _killed _Harry—"

"Yes, I _know,_" Davy interrupted, exasperated. "But I didn't, did I?"

"_Never _interrupt me," Severus said after a moments pause. His voice was low, silky and dangerous—it gave Davy another rash of goosebumps. "I'll be writing to your Grandmother about this, though since it concerns me I doubt that she'll care very much…"

Davy looked away from Severus's sour expression. "I'll be getting my stuff now, Uncle Sev. When Grandma Day comes to get me today, she'll probably be Flooing."

Maybe leaving a few days earlier than he should would be for the best, Davy thought. Severus seemed to agree.

"I believe that would be for the best. You can write the letter yourself; I assume you have a quill and parchment you can use," Severus answered. "Right now, however, I want to get back to Harry."

Davy watched as Severus left. He began to dread what his Grandma Day would say when she found out about what he did to Harry…

-

"Some soup, how about that?" Sirius asked Harry, who didn't give much of an answer. His blue lips were starting to turn back to their normal pinkish color, and his shivering had lessened. "Would you like nice, warm soup?"

Harry jerked his head in a nod. Sirius looked up at Severus as he picked the boy up off his lap and set him on the couch next to him.

"You should sit with him," Sirius said as he walked past Severus. "Talk with him. He's been wanting to talk with you for a while."

"D—Dad," Harry said as Severus took Sirius's spot. "I'm still c—cold."

"You're not as cold as before, though?" Severus questioned tentatively.

"I'm b—better. Cold wa—water. Very cold. Freezing," Harry said, resting his head upon Severus's shoulder while wrapping the blankets around him just a little bit tighter. "M—missed you Dad. Can I a—ask you something?"

"Of course," Severus replied softly.

"Do you really like D—Davy better than m—me?"

Severus frowned, looking down at Harry, who was staring back up at him. "Where do you come up with these silly things?"

"You show m—much more affection t—towards Davy," Harry explained, becoming frustrated with his stuttering. He was pleased that he wasn't doing it as much as before. "I've noticed. Like that t—time when Davy was sle—sleeping?"

Severus gave Harry a look. "I _was _going to come check on you too, but you'd _mysteriously_ disappeared from your bed by the time I got there."

"Oh." Harry blushed. Right—that was when he went and fell asleep with Sirius. "I—I'm sorry for being like this the last few d—days."

"Perfectly fine," Severus said softly. "You haven't, after all, been the only one."

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. "What d—do you mean?" He continued to stare at Severus as the older man didn't say anything, and then Harry started to realize what he meant. "Y—you think that I… S—Sirius?…" Harry shook his head. "Dad, I d—don't favor anyb—body."

"Neither do I," Severus replied, but then looked up when he heard a small voice in the doorway.

"Uncle Sev? Grandma Day will be here soon enough to take me," Davy announced. He walked over to Harry. "Terribly sorry. Hope you feel better soon."

With another look, Davy left the room—probably to go up and wait in the room that Davy had been staying in to wait for his grandmother to show up.

"At least he tried," Sirius said, though he didn't look too pleased, as he brought Harry a bowl of soup. "Careful kiddo, it's hot."

Harry accepted the bowl, but looked hesitantly down at it before looking back up at Sirius. "Er… you—you didn't a—actually _make _this did you?"

Sirius playfully stuck his tongue out at Harry as he crossed the room and sat himself down on a chair. "_No, _I didn't. Morwen did; I'm simply the deliverer."

Harry, startled by something beside him, nearly dropped the hot soup on his lap—luckily, Severus was quick enough to get the bowl before any had managed to spill out of the sides.

"Ooh, where is that boy?"

Harry saw a lady, who didn't look older than fifty with dark hair that didn't really seem to be greying yet. She looked crisp and… snooty. Harry was amazed that she didn't have soot on her from Flooing at all; she had a bit of it smudged on her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. Whenever Harry had Flooed, he always seemed to get covered head-to-toe in soot.

She just seemed to realize that there were people in the room when she caught sight of Severus and Harry.

"Mirabel," Severus acknowledged rather coldly.

"Severus," Mirable said with a crisp nod. For the first time, Harry saw Mirabel Day give a smile—even if it did seem tight. Harry lifted his head off Severus's shoulder as she spoke to him. "_You _must be the boy Davy was telling me that Severus had _adopted. _I've read that somewhere along the line, too… Mirabel Day. Pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"Er… p—pleasure to meet you too, ma'am," Harry answered uncertainly as he returned her smile briefly.

"Good to see that not much of Severus has rub off on you," Mirabel responded. "You seem like a polite boy, which is always a must. Although, you do seem rather… cold? I assume that's my Davy's doing."

"Yes m—ma'am," Harry answered.

It was then that Mirabel sensed somebody behind her. She turned, giving what she probably thought was a charming smile.

"And you are?"

Sirius stood up, giving a smile of his own. "Sirius Black."

"Oh yes," Mirabel started, studying him. "I've heard of you."

Sirius sat back down awkwardly as she turned back to face Harry and Severus. "Now, you must tell me Harry—what are your thoughts on Severus here as a father figure?"

Harry, forgetting completely about the bowl of soup on his lap, could only stare at Mirabel. She certainly was… different. Harry could see why Severus didn't like the woman so much.

"Grandma Day!"

Davy dropped his bags in the doorway of the living room and raced in, throwing his arms around the womans neck as he enveloped her in a hug.

"Davy, you realize that we are going to have to have a _serious _talking about what you've done?" Mirabel looked at Davy with a sharp, stern, piercing stare. Davy looked guilty, but he nodded.

"Yes Grandma." Davy looked over at Severus and Harry. "Sorry again."

After Mirabel instructed Davy to go fetch his bags, she fixed Harry and Severus with a stare; her eyebrows were raised. "We'll be expecting you next month on Friday, the eighth, for dinner? I would suggest you Floo; all you need to say is "Day Manor". You aren't they only one with a manor, Severus."

Severus waited until Mirabel and Davy left before he sneered, "Really? I was not quite aware of that."

Harry picked up his spoon and took a sip of the soup, which was now lukewarm. "Not looking forward to this," he said after swallowing.

Harry, with the spoon still in his mouth, looked up at Sirius, who was looking at Harry and trying to contain his laughter but failing miserably.

"What's so funny, Black?" Severus sneered again.

Then, in a high-pitched voice, Sirius said through his laughter, "Another crumpet, Sevvy dear? What about a gherkin? No? Feeling a mite peckish, Sevvy _darling? _Ooh, you _must _try a piece of the gateau."

Harry choked on the soup. "I hope you're not imitating me, Sirius. I don't talk like that."

Sirius merely laughed. "F—feeling better Harry? Warmer?"

Harry frowned, glancing at Severus, who was not looking amused. "Sirius—you weren't imitating me, were you? I hope it was of Mirabel Day—_I don't talk like that!"  
_  
More laughter from Sirius, who just couldn't keep it in any longer. "Spotted dick, anyone?"

_-_


	34. The Talk

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Oomph!"

Harry let out a noise as something pounced on him, squishing him into the bed. Harry reached out, blindly fumbling for his glasses, which he eventually found.

"Up, up, up my little Slytherin," Sirius said cheerfully. "What day is it? Guess!"

"Sirius," Harry said sleepily, "what time is it?"

"Six o'clock," Sirius answered quickly, still smothering Harry into the mattress. "Now guess what day it is!"

Sirius, however, didn't give Harry time at all to guess. "Aw, too slow! It's your _birthday! _What's it feel like to be fourteen?"

"Painful," Harry answered, pushing Sirius off. "What are you doing waking me up at six o'clock on a Thursday?"

"Thursday's a good day to… y'know… start the day early," Sirius said as he started to pull the blankets off Harry, ignoring the protests. "So, do you want to have breakfast _now _or d'you wanna wait?"

"Doesn't matter," Harry muttered as he sat up. "Maybe after. Having breakfast at six o'clock in the morning is too early for me. Is Dad even up yet?"

"Oh… okay… and I don't know," Sirius said, though he looked like he wanted to say something else.

Harry let out a sigh. "If Dad's up… then I can see if we can have breakfast early today, since you're _starving._"

Sirius grinned. "Thank you! Come on, come on, come on!"

-

Harry felt glad that he was able to spend his birthday with Severus _and _Sirius. Only one thing was missing, really… and that was Nathaniel.

Harry sat on his bed, holding the yearbook Severus had given him long ago. He was flipping through the pages, taking a good long look at all of the pictures.

"January thirtieth," Harry murmured as his eyes skimmed over the picture of his mother. That was her birthday, and James' was… "March twenty-seventh."

Harry flipped the page, looking for Sirius's picture. There it was, and underneath it it read: April thirteen.

And Remus's? March tenth. Harry had to remember to keep these dates in mind—especially Sirius's. Harry began to plan something that involved _five _in the morning and cold water. Just to get him back for this morning, of course.

Harry's eyes skimmed over the page, landing on a certain picture… his eyes travelled down underneath the picture, reading the birthdate, and then—

"DAD!"

In minutes Severus appeared in the doorway, looking startled and rather annoyed.

"_What _is wrong?"

Harry scowled. "You never _once _told me that your birthday was on _January ninth! _All these years and—"

Severus frowned. "Would you calm down? _That's _what this is about?"

"You _never _told me. That day had always passed… and I never knew; I feel guilty and it's all your fault."

Severus gave Harry a look. "You know now, don't you?"

"That's not my point," Harry argued. "_You never told me, _and I'm thick because not _once _had I ever thought about it because I'm _thick _and selfish and _why _didn't you ever tell me?"

"You do realize that you talk incessantly," Severus said after a moments pause. "So you should know, I never told you because I didn't find it necessary."

"Not necessary?" Harry repeated. "Why not?"

"Harry," Severus said softly, "come downstairs to have lunch. Black won't stop humming "Happy Birthday" and it's getting on my last nerve. Let's talk about this after, shall we?"

Harry sighed, dropping the subject as he stood up. "Fine, all right."

-

It was later that day when Sirius had pulled Severus aside, when Harry was back upstairs. Earlier they had a small party; Sirius had given Harry _Quidditch Through the Ages _and a broomstick servicing kit, whilst Severus had bought tickets to the World Cup _and _was letting Sirius go too ("Snapey _does _have a heart _after all!_" Sirius had exclaimed.)

"Listen," Sirius had whispered, even though Harry wasn't near them enough to Harry. "Have you… _talked _to Harry?"

Severus scowled, although he seemed confused. "_Ever?_"

"No, no, no, no," Sirius said quickly with a shake of his head. "I meant… you know… he's fourteen now!"

"Yes, I realized that," Severus drawled. "At first I had thought he was four, but then I found that he was much too tall."

Sirius gave Severus a look. "I _meant_, have you ever given Harry the _talk _yet?"

"The _talk?_" Severus raised his eyebrows. "What are _you _talking about?"

Sirius let out an irritated sigh. "You know, Snape! Er… babies come from the store?"

Severus paled. "You—_no_—" He couldn't seem to form a proper sentence.

Sirius sighed again. "Well, you should. Now. It's that time and—_why _are you staring at me like that?"

"You're his godfather," Severus said slowly, "you can tell him."

Sirius's mouth dropped open. "_You're _his father! _You _tell him!"

"He'd be much more comfortable talking with you," Severus answered curtly.

"You two are the ones who have this special talking-thing going on between you. Harry _is _most comfortable talking about _every_thing with you." Sirius gave a smug smile. "Go on, now. If you don't, then someday soon Harry will come to you, a desperate look in his eyes as he tells you that he ended up getting his girlfriend—"

Severus's eyes flashed. "I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

Sirius kept his mouth closed, but then said, "_All _because you never _talked_ with him."

Severus paled even more.

-

"Harry."

Harry looked up, and smiled as he saw who stood in the doorway. "Dad. I was thinking, when you said I could invite somebody to the World Cup, that since Nicholas and Isabelle already have their tickets that I might invite Hermione."

"Hermione," Severus's voice echoed. "Why Hermione?"

Harry looked at him oddly. "Because… she's my friend, and I don't think she has a ticket and that I think she may want to go?"

"Hermione's a girl."

"Oh… really?" Harry said awkwardly. The odd look that he was giving Severus never went away. "I never knew that…"

"So," Severus started as he took a seat on the end of Harry's bed. "Do you… like Hermione Granger?"

Harry frowned. "Yes I do. Just because she's a Gryffindor doesn't mean I have to hate her."

"I know," Severus said quickly. "What about Isabelle? Do you like _her?_"

Harry nodded slowly. "She's Nicholas's sister. She's nice, my friend, so yes, I like her." Harry tilted his head to the side. "Are you OK? You don't look… normal."

"I'm fine," Severus answered. "Now, just… you know when—that is, if—or… when you _both _become a certain age, then—perhaps… no, no… Oh Merlin, why me?"

Harry stared blankly. "_What?_"

"Black!"

An awkward looking Sirius stepped into view, looking slightly guilty for eavesdropping.

"Yes?"

"You have something you need to discuss with Harry," Severus said as he stood up. "I'll let you get to that now."

Sirius's eyes widened. "What? No, I thought we settled with _you _telling Harry? I… simply… do not exist at the moment."

"Of all the moments," Severus muttered. "No, go ahead Black. Harry's waiting."

Sirius cleared his throat, sitting in the same spot that Severus had been sitting in. "Well… Harry… you see, when you"—Here, Sirius coughed (or maybe laughed?) and said something at the same time, which sounded like…

"Numnuck?" Harry repeated, bewildered. "What's 'numnuck'?"

Sirius's cheeks turned pink. "Oh…'kay…_sure! _Numnucking. Well, you do _it _when you truly love a woman, and—" He quickly glanced at Severus, "—_and _when you're old enough! So, when you and—"

"_Harry!"  
_  
Sirius frowned, looking up to see who had said Harry's name.

"Nathaniel, oh thank you!" Harry shot up, running to Nathaniel Jacobs and throwing his arms around Nathaniel's neck in a hug. "You just saved my life."

"Oh—you're welcome?" Nathaniel said as Harry let go. "I tried knocking you know, but nobody was answering… and the door was open, so I thought I'd just let myself in if that's OK." He grinned, not waiting for an answer. "So what do you do when you're older?"

Nathaniel Jacobs had not changed much. His hair was still brown and curly, though it had seemed to be a_ little _longer then Harry had remembered. His light brown eyes sparkled with life.

"Hello there," Nathaniel said to Sirius, who was still looking a little pink. Nathaniel looked back at Harry, giving a confused look. "Harry, he looks _familiar._ Why?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but wondered how he could without Sirius (and Severus) finding out what he and Hermione did.

Nathaniel's eyes widened and his mouth parted in surprise as he finally realized who it was that was sitting on Harry's bed.

"That's—that… human, y'know… your godfather! Harry… he died, so how—"

"Huh?" Harry said loudly, giving Nathaniel a look. "What are you talking about? Yes, this is my godfather, but I don't know what you're on about, Nathaniel. He didn't _die_."

Nathaniel shook his head, still looking confused, but dropped it. "I just came by because I wanted to tell you happy birthday, and apologize for not writing all year, and just to see you." He cast Sirius another curious look. "So you're alive, huh?"

"Yes," Sirius said slowly, drawing the word out. "Nice to… meet you?"

"We've already met," Nathaniel said. "I'm Slyther. Er, well, Nathaniel. I was Harry's snake. Harry… can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes," Harry said quickly. He looked at Sirius and Severus. "Sorry, we'll have to continue this conversation another time."

Harry followed Nathaniel out of the bedroom and down the corridor a little ways, looking completely relieved.

"Did I mention that you just saved my life?" Harry breathed. "Dad and Sirius were going on about _numnucking, _and don't let that weird name fool you…"

"Harry," Nathaniel said quietly, "how was that Sirius in there? What happened?"

"Nothing," Harry said, shrugging it off. "Things happened this year, and he's back. Don't ask questions Nathaniel, just be happy that I have my godfather back!"

"All right," Nathaniel agreed. "I won't ask questions. Is it all right if I spend the day with you? My parents are expecting me back sometime tomorrow. Do you know how annoying they can get sometimes? I absolutely love it."

Harry grinned. "I'm glad that you're happy Nathaniel." Harry slowly looked behind his shoulder. "I think we should go back to my room now. What a relief that you're here—if you stay there with me I don't think Severus nor Sirius would try to continue with the talk they were trying to have with me."

Nathaniel followed Harry as Harry slowly made his way back to his room. Sirius and Severus both looked up.

"Nathaniel's going to stay here a bit, if that's all right," Harry announced uncomfortably. They remained quiet.

"Yay," Nathaniel said weakly, breaking the silence. Nobody else spoke.

"I already know what you two were trying to talk to me about," Harry blurted out. "I… already know."

"Oh, good," Severus said quickly. "If you have any questions Harry, then make sure that you ask Black."

Harry watched as Severus walked out of the room, a relieved look on his face.

Sirius stood up. "Yes… yes, what he said." Sirius's eyes widened. "Not about asking me, though! _He's _your father; you ask him the questions!"

Harry stared blankly at the spot where Sirius had once stood, before he had fled the room as well.

"Do I want to know what you three were talking about?" Nathaniel questioned with raised eyebrows.

Harry hastily shook his head.

-

A/N: A bit of a random chapter, but I haven't been feeling good these past couple of days and this is as much as I could do! Thanks.


	35. The Guests

**Chapter Sixteen**

"I have to see Davy again."

Harry, standing in front of the fireplace, looked up at Severus—who stood beside him— in horror.

"I have to see _Mirabel _again." Severus said Mirabel Day's name with such distaste that Harry actually felt sorry for him. For _both _of them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the most dramatic blokes I have yet to meet," Sirius said sarcastically from behind them.

Harry sighed and was about to say something, but Severus beat him to it.

"You know Black, I could get Mirabel to make _you _come along with us every month—"

"No, no, I get it," Sirius said quickly, his eyes widening. "I'm perfectly content staying here and watching over the house, thanks."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "_No _burning my house down while Harry and I are gone, as well, Black. I expect when we return for it to be intact with not one thing missing."

Sirius raised his hand, as if in an oath. "I promise. No burning down the house. As for things not to be missing, well, no promises on that one." At Severus's piercing look he added with a sigh, "I was _just _kidding."

Severus turned around, facing the fireplace again.

"You may go first," Severus told Harry.  
Harry frowned and shook his head. "You can go first, Dad."

"I'm letting _you _go first."

"I don't want to go first."

"Neither do I."

"Oh, will _one _of you go first?" Sirius said, staring at the two in annoyance.

"Here, here!" Nathaniel's cheerful voice seconded from the chair in which he was sitting.

"Fine," Harry said with a small pout. "_I'll _go first." He turned to give Nathaniel a look. "You better not burn down the house while we're gone either, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel put on a look of surprise. "Me? Burn down a house? You don't know me very well."

"Leaving Black and Jacobs to watch the house for a week," Severus spoke up with a sneer. "I dread what will happen."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, taking a handful of the Floo Powder. He stepped into the fireplace, let out a sigh, gave Nathaniel and Sirius a sad look as he threw the Powder down and yelled his destination. In a moment, green flames had enveloped Harry, when they died away, he was gone.

"Black and Jacobs," Severus said warningly as he entered the fireplace, "remember that you'll do _nothing _while we're gone that you'll later regret."

Sirius sneaked a grin at Nathaniel. "Ready to start the fire?"

Nathaniel returned the grin. "You bet!"

Severus, before he get get a word out, was taken in by the green flames just as Harry had, and when they were gone, so was Severus.

-

Mirabel's house was the most _fanciest _house Harry reckoned he'd ever been in. Everything seemed to be emitting a gold glow—even if the object itself wasn't gold! Perhaps it was one of the many chandeliers Mirabel had. Everything in the house just seemed so fancy.

"I don't like this," Harry whispered to Severus in the empty room. "I don't feel right."

"It's probably how the silver candlesticks are approximately five inches apart each," Severus answered, sneering. "Or perhaps how everything is just so clean."

"Ah, Harry, Severus!" The voice belonged to Mirabel Day as Harry and Severus made their way into the dining room, where Mirabel and Davy sat. Her voice was neither cold nor cheerful… although Harry could hear the crisp, icy edge that appeared when she'd said Severus's name.

"Come sit," Mirabel continued. "Anywhere's fine. You're looking much better than last time Harry; how do you feel?"

"Er… much better, thank you," Harry said awkwardly as he sat across from Severus. Mirabel and Davy sat at opposite ends of the table.

"That's good to hear," said Mirabel. "So tell me about yourself, Harry. _Other _than being Harry Potter I really know nothing about you—except for _that _and the fact that Severus is your adoptive father."

She tipped the wineglass to her lips and took a sip, looking at Harry, expecting an answer.

"Er…" Harry glanced at Severus. "I'm… fourteen?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" Mirabel demanded with raised eyebrows.

"Statement," Harry replied after a moments hesitation.

"Then say it like one. I assume there's more than you being fourteen, Harry?" Mirabel sighed when Harry remained uncomfortably quiet. "Tell me about Hogwarts. Davy says you're in Slytherin—what's your favorite class? Do you have any friends?"

"Oh. Well… I don't really know if I have a favorite class," said Harry. "I mean… I do like Potions out of everything the most… and yes, I do have friends, Mrs.—er, Mira—ah…"

Harry ended off lamely, staring down at his plate while his face turned a bright red.

"Mirabel is fine, Harry," the lady answered. "Potions, hm? Don't you teach that class, Severus?"

"Indeed, Mirabel," Severus answered curtly.

Harry looked up again to see that Mirabel was staring at him, saying, "Are you saying that Potions is your favorite just because your father teaches it, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "No, ma'am. It really is my favorite class."

"Interesting," Mirabel murmured. "Well, Roberta—bring in our supper, will you?"

"Grandma Day doesn't use magic much," Davy answered as a woman who was wearing an apron left after setting down what Harry thought was their supper. "She likes doing everything the Muggle way… except for sometimes travelling to places, like Uncle Sev's when she came to pick me up that time. She has to wait until the maids aren't around, though.

"So Grandma Day, what're we having today?" Davy finished.

"Duck," Mirabel said, causing Harry to stare wide-eyed at his plate. "How do you like duck, Harry, Severus?"

"It's…" Harry slowly looked up, forcing a smile. "I've never really had it before."

"Oh really?" Mirabel looked interested. "Well you must try it, it is really very good. Oh, why—Roberta! You forgot the _snails!_" Mirabel sighed, shaking her head. "Davy, I tell you, if that woman forgets one more thing I am going to have to let her go."

"Uhm—snails?" Harry said out loud, though he hadn't meant to.

"Yes dear, snails. Have you never had _those _either?"

"No, ma—Mirabel." Harry, making sure that neither Davy nor Mirabel were looking, gave Severus a pleading look. Severus, however, was too busy giving Mirabel Day a dirty glare every so often when she wasn't paying attention, so he hadn't noticed Harry's look.

Harry let out a sigh. This was going to be a long week.

-

Harry lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. This bed was so stiff—just like Mirabel. The curtains were too flowery, the walls were too white and the room was too big. How long had Harry been awake for, anyways? He'd have to say that it felt at least like an hour.

The house was so quiet. Usually, around midnight or so, he would often hear Sirius creeping down the corridor to get something to eat or drink from the kitchens, and a light would shine down the corridor at times when Severus had his light on, which usually was a sign that he was reading.

No light, and no Sirius. It was dark, except for the bit of moonlight that was dripping into his room from the window. Was Severus laying awake, finding it utterly difficult to go to sleep as well? Harry wondered. One way to find out.

Harry crawled out of bed, taking each step very slowly to make sure that he didn't fall. Really, some lights should be on so he could see where he was going. Why did Mirabel have to turn _every _light off?

After tripping over his own feet many times, Harry finally reached Severus's room. The moonlight was also seeping into Severus's from his own window, which made Harry able to see much better.

"Dad?" he whispered as he got into Severus's bed. He made his way over to Severus and lay his head down on the Potions Masters' arm. "I can't go to sleep."

"You too, I see," Severus answered with a sigh. "The bed is rather hard, isn't it?"

"Do we really have to spend a _week _here?" Harry whispered, tilting his head up to see Severus, who nodded in response. "Well at least I'm not here alone. I'm glad I have you."

"You always will."

Harry grinned. "I know. Hey, Dad… do you mind if I sleep here tonight? I don't really want to go back."

"I don't mind."

"I'm going to apologize in advance to you, anyway. For using your arm as a pillow. It might get uncomfortable after a while, but I'm too comfy to move," Harry explained in a whisper with another grin.

"I don't mind," Severus repeated.

Harry emitted a yawn as he closed his eyes and snuggled in a bit closer. "Good. I don't plan on moving, either. I love you, Dad. G'night."

There was a moments hesitation before Severus had spoke again. "I love you too Harry," came the soft answer.

Harry wasn't sure whether Severus had eventually fallen asleep as quickly as Harry did, but Harry wasn't really thinking about that at the time. None of them had shared verbal affection like that before—as far as Harry could remember, anyways.

Maybe having dinner at Mirabel Day's house wasn't such a bad thing, after all.


	36. Part Four

**Part 4 of 7**

**Chapter One**

The next six nights that Harry had to endure at Mirabel Day's house weren't _as _bad as Harry had imagined. They did have foods that Harry would never have even _thought _of eating (like veal and escargots), and he had to say that he couldn't wait until he and Severus would return home to Sirius and Nathaniel, since Nathaniel had said he would stay with Sirius until Harry had returned.

The one thing that Harry was thankful about while staying at Mirabel's was that, since her house was so big, he barely had to spend time with her or Davy. He usually spent his time in their library and Severus had often—or most of the time, actually—joined him.

"It was such a wonderful week, having you and Harry here," Mirabel said as Severus and Harry stood in front of the fireplace. "I won't be seeing you next month either, will I? Well, until next summer then."

Severus didn't look too excited about that as he said a rather emotionless, "Indeed."

"Goodbye Harry," Mirabel said as Harry stepped into the fireplace with the Floo Powder in his hand. "Quick now, before Roberta passes by."

"Thank you, Mirabel."

The flames engulfed Harry, and he was gone.

"Severus," Mirabel said curtly as Severus was next. "Take care of the boy. I'll see you when I see you."

Severus jerked his head in a brief nod. "Good day."

-

"'_Thank you, Mirabel_,'" Severus mocked to Harry as he stepped out of the fireplace back in the manor. "How polite."

Harry scowled. "I had to say _something, _Dad. She would've thought that I didn't have any manners if I hadn't."

"You were at your politest this past week," Severus commented. "I have never heard you say 'ma'am' that much in my life. Or thank you—every other word you uttered _had _to be thank you."

Harry gave Severus a look. "So you would rather me be disrespectful?"

"Not to people in general," Severus said. "I wouldn't mind… say… perhaps only to Mirabel."

"Then she wouldn't like me," Harry said with a frown. "You can dislike Mirabel all you want, Dad, and can make her as angry as you want because I know you'd like to see Mirabel go ten different shades of red… but _leave _me out of it."

Severus sighed. "Very well, very well."

"Welcome home!" Sirius and Nathaniel had said simultaneously as they jumped out, startling Harry.

"So, tell me, was it absolutely horrible?" Nathaniel asked Harry. "Should I cringe all the while you're explaining your week to me?"

"It was… fine," Harry answered slowly. "I wasn't too fond of the food, though."

"Just be thankful that it's over," said Severus. "I know I am." He gave Nathaniel and Sirius suspicious looks. "And you two did _what _while we were away?"

Nathaniel and Sirius exchanged glances.

"There wasn't much _to _do," Sirius replied. "But, I found muggle money left over from my trips—"

"—and my mother gave me some just in case," Nathaniel butted in.

"Right! So… we went to the pictures," Sirius finished.

"The pictures," Harry slowly repeated.

Sirius nodded. "I forgot the movie we saw—"

"—You weren't paying attention to it in the first place," Nathaniel interrupted.

Sirius ignored him. "It was fun though."

"For you!" Nathaniel shook his head, pointing at Sirius. "This one here… during the _entire _movie he kept throwing popcorn at peoples' head!"

Sirius shrugged. "They didn't know it was me."

Nathaniel snorted. "You kept laughing—loudly, might I add—every time you did it. Oh—_oh, _I can't believe I forgot this part—"

Sirius flushed, giving Nathaniel a warning glare, but kept silent.

"While Sirius was throwing popcorn at heads," Nathaniel started, "he wasn't paying attention and _gracefully _knocked over his drink on some blokes' lap, who was not too happy."

Harry laughed out loud. "Well it sounds like you two had fun."

Nathaniel gave him a sympathetic look. "Just be thankful that you don't have to endure any more of the torture Mirabel Day made you go through. Put the past behind you, my friend. Er… she did torture you, right?"

Harry grinned. "You exaggerate."

-

Eight days later, Harry shot up in bed, shaking. His scar was in excruciating pain; it was _throbbing. _Harry wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and let out a breath. That was some nightmare he had—but what was it about? All Harry remembered was the pain…

His scar only hurt when Voldemort—but no, it couldn't… Harry frowned. Could he have been dreaming about Voldemort? Harry racked his brain, trying to remember what his dream was.

Startled, Harry looked up as his bedroom door opened.

"That loud?" Harry guessed as looked at Severus.

"If it was just a bit louder," Severus started as he came into the room, "I would say with full certainty that you've woken the Jackson's up as well."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "Bad dream."

"Tell me about it."

Harry gave his shoulders a small shrug. "That's the thing… I don't remember any of it."

Severus raised his eyebrows and Harry gave him a look.

"I mean it!" Harry insisted. "I'm not lying, honestly. The only thing I remember is that when I woke up, my scar was hurting. It's… it's okay now, but it still stings a little."

Severus frowned as he came forward, looking concerned. "The only time your scar hurts—"

"I know," Harry interrupted softly. "Dad, you have to promise me something."

Severus looked at Harry curiously, but remained quiet, saying nothing. That was all Harry needed to continue on.

"If the Dark Lord _does_… y'know… come back, and he calls for his Death Eaters, well—I don't want you to go," Harry said. "He already knows that you're a traitor, and if you go then he'll just hurt you—_badly. _I don't think I could handle it if I lost you."

Harry stared at Severus for the longest time; at least, it seemed like the longest time to Harry. Harry suddenly became uncomfortable under Severus's gaze. Why wasn't Severus saying anything?

"I won't go," Severus finally said, causing Harry's heart to flutter in triumph.

"You won't?" Harry let out a sigh of relief. "_Thank you, _Dad. You promise?" Harry then shook his head as an afterthought. "I shouldn't promise anything with you… you aren't known for keeping your promises…"

Severus scowled. "Certain ones, yes."

"Fine. _Certain ones,_" Harry repeated. "But Dad… you really, really mean it when you say you won't go to the Death Eater meetings if you're called?"

Severus sighed, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. Harry was surprised when Severus began to tuck him in, but he wasn't complaining.

"I mean it," Severus said. He gave Harry a stern look. "Now go back to sleep, and if your scar begins to hurt then you'll call me."

It wasn't a question, Harry thought as he nodded. "I will."

Severus stood up as he made his way back to the doorway. "Goodnight Harry."

"'Night Dad. I love you," Harry added, waiting to hear the same in return. When he did, and when Severus shut the door, Harry lay on his back and stared blankly at the ceiling. He only hoped that Severus was telling the truth when he told Harry that he wouldn't go to any of the meetings. Harry did believe him, though—he could hear the honesty in Severus's voice when he said that.

Harry just hoped that there _wouldn't _be any meetings called. If there was, then that would mean that they would have a plan for something…

-

The Quidditch World Cup was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. He sat with Severus, Sirius, Nicholas Isabelle and Hermione; Harry was holding Nathaniel (or Slyther, at the moment. He insisted to come along). Of course, it wasn't his finest moment when the Veela had appeared. Harry wasn't sure whether Sirius, Nicholas or even Severus had done anything when she came forth, but he didn't want to ask.

Harry was transfixed with the game in front of him. It was so… _gripping. _He put the omnioculars that he had purchased up to his glasses. What team was he going for? Oh yes, Ireland. But Krum … Harry was amazed at how Krum (from the Bulgarian team) flew his broom. Harry had begun to wish that he was able to fly like that.

Especially when Krum had gone into that dive, and just at exactly the right time had pulled out of it. Although, Lynch from the opposite team had crashed onto the ground, and Krum had the snitch grasped in his hand.

_His nose looks painful, _Slyther commented, talking about Krum's bloody nose. _Don't you think?_"Yes," Harry agreed distractedly. Although Krum had got the Snitch, Ireland still won: One Hundred and sixty points to one hundred and seventy.

Harry stood up with the rest of the crowd, applauding.

"That was brilliant," Nicholas said loudly to Harry over the clapping, his eyes shining in excitement. "Really!"

"I know." Harry grinned. "It's just too bad it's over."

-

Harry woke up to loud noises; screaming. He wondered if he was having another one of his dreams, but he quickly realized that he wasn't.

Harry shoved his glasses on, sitting up.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Severus, who didn't answer, but merely commanded him to put on a jacket and go outside.

Harry did just that, along with Hermione. The first thing Harry saw when he exited were a group of wizards cloaked wizards, their faces hidden by a mask with wands out and raised.

Floating above them were four people, struggling to get down. He frowned as he turned to Hermione.

"D'you see Nicholas or Isabelle?" He asked.

Hermione shook her head, taking another look around. "No, I don't."

Still looking around for the two and waiting for Severus and Sirius, Harry made sure that he still had his wand just in case. Severus then appeared, beckoning them on.

Harry was too worried about Nicholas and Isabelle as he followed Severus and Sirius that he didn't notice when his eyes flew right past them.

"Harry!"

Harry felt greatly relieved as the two came toward them.

Nicholas opened his mouth to say something, but in the process became wider as his eyes grew larger.

Harry turned around to see what Nicholas was gaping at: There, in the sky, was a huge skull with a snake protruding from its mouth—a snake…

Harry cried out Nathaniel's name, digging through his pockets. Finally, Harry pulled Slyther out in relief.  
_  
Thought you forgot me, hm_? Slyther didn't sound very happy. _Typical. Completely forgetting that you picked me up through the chaos… I'm hurt, really…_Harry, however, wasn't listening as he kept frantically rummaging through his pockets.

With horrified eyes, Harry stared at Severus.

"_I've lost my wand!_"

"What?" Severus's eyes snapped down on him.

"I can't find it," Harry said in a hollow voice. "M—my wand, I can't—"

Harry, without another word, ran back; his eyes desperately searched the ground as he went. Where could it be? How could he have been so careless as to lose it?

Harry suddenly stopped in his place as he stared ahead. There were wizards around an unconscious House Elf—but the House Elf had a wand in its hand.

Harry stared. Could it have been _his _wand?

He stepped closer to get a better look, and sure enough, the wand that the House Elf had in its hand _was _Harry's wand; he recognized it.

"That's my wand," Harry blurted out. Eyes immediately swerved in his direction.

"So _you _conjured the Dark Mark?" A man who Harry didn't recognize demanded.

Harry shook his head. "No, I dropped my wand and that House Elf has it." He stiffened as he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and looked up to see that it was only Severus. Sirius and the rest of the group were behind them.

Harry watched silently as one of the wizards used their wand to wake the House Elf up. Nobody spoke as a wizard—who Harry learned was Mr Diggory—began to interrogate the House Elf, which was curled up and rocking back and forth, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

The House Elf began insisting that it wasn't her who conjured the Dark Mark. Harry didn't make a sound as Mr Diggory used his wand to see what the last spell that was used was; he still felt Severus's hand placed firmly on his shoulder, which made him feel calm. Safe.

As Mr Diggory, pointing his own wand at Harry's wand, yelled "Prior Incantato!", Harry saw the same mark that was in the sky appear right where the two wands met, although it looked much more smokier.

It soon disappeared when Mr Diggory had said, "Deletrius!" The House Elf was now trembling, her eyes brimming with terror. Harry didn't know what happened next, because Severus had coldly asked for Harry's wand back and they were now walking back through the woods.

As Hermione was going on to Nicholas and Isabelle about the way they were treating the House Elf, Harry said to Severus in a low voice, "What happened, Dad?"

Severus merely shook his head, keeping his eyes forward. "Not right now, Harry."

Harry hesitated before keeping quiet. He felt Sirius's arm draped over his shoulder, and Sirius gave him a gentle grin as Harry glanced over.

Harry felt the same safe feeling he had felt with Severus—but he still wondered how that Elf had had his wand, and what happened that night. He hoped that Severus—or even Sirius—would be able to tell him later.

-

A/N: To the person who questioned if I'm dead, my answer is: No. I just have a LOT going on which results in VERY late chapters. Sorry!


	37. The Tournament

**Chapter Two**

"Dad." Harry stared at Severus the next night as he sat up in bed. They had spent the whole day not talking about what happened the night before, so Harry decided that now would be the time.

Severus seemed to know what Harry was going to say, because he sighed. "Not now Harry; go to sleep."

"No, now!" Harry said loudly. "Just tell me. Please."

Severus stayed quiet, standing still in the doorway. He slowly made his way back to the bed and sat down. "You know that what was conjured in the sky was the Dark Mark, correct?" He started as Harry nodded in response.

"Yeah, although, isn't it like the one on your…?" Harry paused, letting out a barely audible, "Oh."

"Everyone was panicking last night," Sirius's voice said. Harry looked away from Severus to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. "It was almost like seeing Voldemort back."

Harry looked back at Severus. "Those were Death Eaters, weren't they?"

Severus nodded.

"This isn't good," Harry whispered. "Dad… they know you're a traitor. T—"

"Harry," Severus started, "go to sleep. We'll discuss this further tomorrow."

Sirius, with a faint grin, went over to Harry and kissed his forehead. "'Night, kiddo."

"'Night," Harry echoed. He watched as Sirius left, and then turned his attention back to Severus. "Remember what you promised, Dad," Harry said softly. "If you _ever _get called… you won't go." Harry paused briefly. "I love you."

"I love you too. Sleep."

_Don't worry, Harry, _came Slyther's sleepy voice. _Snapey won't go if he ever gets called—you must tell me what you mean by that tomorrow, too—so you needn't worry._"I know," Harry said in what he thought was a firm, certain voice. "I know. G'night."

-

"You're awfully quiet this morning, kiddo," Sirius observed, tilting his head as he studied Harry at the table the next morning. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Harry shook his head, keeping quiet. Then he met Severus's eye, and sighed. "Well… I just find it weird."

Sirius glanced at Severus before looking back at Harry, nodding slowly. "Oh—okay?"

"First my scar hurts," Harry started, and then was soon interrupted by Sirius.

"Your _scar _hurt? Why didn't you tell me? When was this?"

Severus scowled at Sirius. "You were asleep, Black. Obviously nothing wakes you, considering how loud Harry was that night. It only proves that you can sleep through _anything._"

Sirius returned the scowl, turning his attention back to Harry. "Okay, okay… continue."

"Well, my scar hurt, and then the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's… _sign _in the sky at the World Cup?" Harry shook his head. "I'm… going to go see if Nathaniel's up yet."

"_Harry._"

Harry quickly glanced back at Severus before going up the stairs to his bedroom. He could hear Severus following—possibly even Sirius, too.

_Something going on that I should know about? _Slyther questioned as Harry came into the room; Severus following.

"We should be leaving for Hogwarts shortly."

Harry nodded. "I know."

"You also need to acquire your formal wear."

Harry looked up, frowning. "Yeah."

"You don't want to talk about it," Severus stated as he studied Harry's face.

Harry shook his head. "Not… not really. Maybe _soon_…"

"I understand." There was a pause. "Come downstairs and have breakfast, Harry; then we'll get your dress robes and you can say your 'goodbye's to Black before we go to Hogwarts."

That's right, Harry realized. Sirius wasn't going to be going to Hogwarts with them; he was going to be staying in the house. Harry wondered how Severus was going to keep a straight mind without wondering whether Sirius had blown up the house yet or not.

Although Harry knew that Sirius wouldn't blow up a house—at least, not on purpose.

-

"This is _horrible," _Nicholas breathed as the Sorting for the first-years came to an end. He sat by Harry and in front of Isabelle and Hermione—which, sitting at each others' tables, seem to be a habit between the two now. He eyed the food around him hungrily. "No Quidditch Cup?"

Startled, Nicholas's head shot up as the doors of the Great Hall flew open. Harry swiveled around in his chair to get a good look at who it was—for a moment, he could only hear a dull, echoing _thunk, _until he spotted a man with a scarred face; so scarred that it looked as if that was all his skin was. Scars. What caught Harry's attention, however, were the eyes.

One of his eyes were normal; the other was a brilliant electric blue and large. It moved in every direction heedlessly.

The Great Hall had become silent as the man, thunking each time, went up to the staff table.

"May I introduce," Dumbledore said, "Alastor Moody—your new Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor."

The next thing Harry knew, Nicholas was nudging him.

"Where'd you go off to, Harry?" he questioned, frowning.

"_What? _No where," Harry answered. "I was right here."

Nicholas gave Harry a look. "What did Dumbledore just announce?"

Harry faltered, at a loss. He wasn't really paying attention; he was more fascinated with the new DADA Professor. Then, he looked at Hermione, who soundlessly mouthed, "Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Harry said out loud, frowning.

"Hermione told you," Nicholas said with a slight frown, then shook it off. "No, instead of the Quidditch Cup they're doing the Tri-Wizard Tournament. _Listen_." Nicholas nodded up at Dumbledore.

Harry began to tune in as Dumbledore was saying, "—a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between—"

Harry glanced back over at Nicholas. _A Tri-wizard Tournament? _Severus had never told him about that.

"Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration," Dumbledore continued.

Beside him, Harry heard Nicholas let out a groan of disappointment.

"I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen." There was a brief pause from Dumbledore before he continued again. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning."

"I'd've wanted to go in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Nicholas said as he and everyone else stood up. "No one _under _seventeen." Nicholas sighed.

"People have died," Hermione pointed out as she, too, stood up.

Nicholas frowned. "So?"

"People have _died _in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Nicholas."

Nicholas nodded slowly. "But that was ages ago, Hermione. Really."

Hermione sighed, giving up. She gave Harry and Isabelle a quick smile before heading back over with the Gryffindors.

"'People have died,'" Nicholas imitated Hermione. "Really, it's not as if somebody is going to _die _in this one."

Isabelle scowled. "Come off it Nicholas."

Nicholas gave Isabelle a look. "What? I mean it—d'you really expect there to be _deaths _in this Tournament?"

Isabelle ignored Nicholas, who gave Harry a shrug.

"Do _you?"_

Harry returned the shrug. "I dunno. I hope not."

-

A/N: I do not really make up for my long, long absence in this chapter, but I hope to be updating more frequently! Thanks!


	38. The Dark Arts

**Chapter Three**

Nicholas and Draco Malfoy hadn't been getting along lately, though they barely spent any time together. Harry had even asked what caused the sudden dislike—Draco hadn't been around them much lately, but even so, Harry never thought that Nicholas _hated _the Slytherin. It actually seemed like he did lately.

It could've possibly started when Draco had made a crack about Nicholas being in Slytherin—because of the sudden revelation of Nicholas's adoption—and then Isabelle tried to defend her brother, which only caused Draco to sneer and make a crack about _her._At least, Nicholas said that's what happened, since Harry wasn't sure. He hadn't been there; instead, when that happened, he had been in Severus's chambers with the Potions Professor. It had, of course, been cut short by Davy Brighton's sudden arrival, and Harry just didn't feel like being down there along with Davy.

Nicholas hadn't been in such a good mood ever since the incident with Draco Malfoy—but it all seemed to disappear the day that Professor Moody turned the blond into a ferret. That really all happened when Nicholas and Draco began to have another verbal fight, and in which Harry had tried to help, which only caused Draco to get angry… and use magic without Harry even being aware of it.

Then came Professor Moody, and then the ferret.

It was Professor Moody's class that had been the most… _interesting. _Harry wondered how Hermione handled it when Moody had showed them the curses: Avada Kedavra, the Cruciatus and the Imperius curse. To think, that Voldemort had used the Avada Kedavra curse to kill his parents—and he had witnessed it. On a spider, of course. Still…

That week, Harry had managed to visit Severus most of the time while still narrowly evading Davy Brighton, because Harry began to memorize Davy's visiting schedule with Severus. Although lately, Davy had been visiting at different times than he used to.

Harry didn't know exactly why he was avoiding Davy. He knew that it really didn't have anything to do with Davy pushing him into the water over the summer, but more because he felt uncomfortable whenever he was in a room with both Severus and Davy.

Why?

Was it because he felt like Davy Brighton was competition? Competition for… what, Harry wondered? Competition for Severus's attention? Harry had come to admit to himself that he _was _a little jealous of Davy spending so much time with his father, but then Harry began to wonder just when he had become so possessive.

He had even wrote to Sirius, asking his godfather for advice. He would've normally asked Severus for advice—but, seeing as this was about Severus himself, Harry found it just too awkward.

Sirius's reply didn't answer Harry's question directly, but asked other questions before finally, near the end, admitted that he didn't know what kind of advice to give Harry. Harry didn't mind; instead, he just continued to visit Severus whilst still avoiding Davy.

It was actually working out pretty well, for a while.

Harry stood up from the couch in Severus's chambers, clearing his throat. "I should go, I have homework that I need to do. You know, I just should have done it with Nicholas, but I held it off…"

Severus shook his head. "You _should _have finished your homework with Mr Nixon when he did his. Do you think I should give you a detention for procrastinating, Mr Potter-Snape?"

A grin played across Harry's lips. "You can do what you want, Professor. I just think that you'd only give me a detention for procrastinating because you want to spend more time with me. Correct?"

"Perhaps," Severus drawled, looking amused. He looked as if he was going to add something more, but ended up just cringing as a familiar voice echoed through the chambers.

"_Uncle Sev!_"

Harry turned around, facing Davy Brighton, who entered the chambers cheerfully. The Gryffindor froze as he caught sight of Harry.

"Oh…" Davy faltered. "What are you doing here?"

Harry scowled. "What do you mean, 'what am I doing here'? I'm visiting my father."

"Oh," Davy repeated, nodding. "Right. I forgot."

"Of course you did," Harry muttered. Without even glancing at Severus, Harry merely said, "Talk to you later," before leaving, though he wasn't quite sure Severus even heard him.

As he stepped out of the portrait hole and began walking down the corridor, Harry wondered if he should've just stayed. What were Davy and Severus talking about now? Him? How foolish he just acted back there? Well, at least Harry thought himself foolish. Although, he has said and done—or perhaps just said?—much more foolish things in front of Davy Brighton.

Harry came to a halt as he saw Hermione in front of him, looking preoccupied.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry greeted cheerfully—as cheerful as he could be, anyway. "Coming from the library?"

"I was just going back to my dorm," Hermione explained, glancing down at the books in her arms. "I'm a bit busy."

"With what?"

"You'll see," Hermione replied with a grin. "Nicholas and Isabelle are in the library if you're looking for them. Bye."

Harry watched as Hermione left, and then headed towards the library. As soon as he entered he saw both Nixon's sitting around a table.

"Hi," Harry said as he approached them. "Hermione said you were here."

"Yeah, just finishing up a bit of homework. Have _you _started it yet?"

Harry ignored Nicholas's last question, but listened to Isabelle as she said, "Did you see Hermione yet? She was acting strange… but she wouldn't tell me anything."

"She is up to something," Harry agreed as he sat down beside Nicholas.

Caoimhe Aureus passed them, giving Isabelle a dirty glare on her way by.

Nicholas scowled. "What's her problem?"

"She's probably acting like that because I've stopped hanging around her," Isabelle replied stiffly, then began to look nervous. "And maybe because she told me something and is afraid that now I'm going to tell everyone."

Nicholas looked intrigued. "Are you?"

"No," Isabella replied, frowning. "No I'm not."

"Aw, come on," Nicholas encouraged with a grin. "Tink…"

Isabelle made a face at Nicholas, and then scowled. "Don't call me that and—well… do you really want to know?"

Nicholas nodded eagerly.

Isabelle swallowed, looking at Nicholas with an austere face. "She told me that she loves you, Nicholas. She has ever since she first saw you."

Nicholas paled, gaping. He turned his horrified eyes onto Harry, who tried not to laugh, but found the task extremely difficult.

"Yo—you—"

Isabelle merely smiled. "I'm just kidding, Nicholas. She didn't say that."

Nicholas closed his mouth. "Well why not? Am I not lovable?"

Isabelle gave Nicholas a look. "I'm not going to tell you two what she said here—but if I tell you later, you two do promise that you won't say anything, right?"

Harry and Nicholas exchanged glances before nodding.

"All right." Isabelle nodded as she stood. "I'll tell you both tonight."

-

That night, the trio had also learned what Hermione had been up to.

"Spew," Harry repeated slowly, though at Hermione's look, corrected himself. "OK, S-P-E-W. What—?"

"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," Hermione answered. "I really don't like how the House Elves are being treated! Honestly, do you?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, _I—_meaning my Dad and I—treat our House Elf nicely…"

"Well, not _you. _What about Dobby? You were telling me about him—and that House Elf at the World Cup?"

Harry exchanged glances with Nicholas, who gave his shoulders a shrug and continued to eat.

Isabelle giggled. "_Spew?_"

Hermione scowled, abruptly standing up from the Slytherin table and hotly towards the Gryffindor.

Isabelle frowned in embarrassment. "I guess I shouldn't have laughed like that."

Nicholas shrugged. "She'll get over it. Now _you _tell us about Aureus, Isabelle."

Isabelle nervously looked around the table. "Not _here, _Nicholas!"

Nicholas frowned, saying, "Then where?"

"Maybe back in the common room, or on our way to there." She sighed. "But I really shouldn't…"

"I'm your brother," Nicholas pointed out. "And _Harry's _your friend—"

"I know!" Isabelle interrupted. "I know."

"Okay," Nicholas said quickly. "I was just reminding you."

-

As it turned out, Isabelle told them that Caoimhe Aureus was definitely into the Dark Arts—but that didn't surprise Harry at all. If Aureus _wasn't _into the Dark Arts, _then _he'd be surprised.

After all, her mother, Topaz Aureus, had definitely been a follower of Voldemort. Like mother, like daughter, it seemed.

Then came October thirtieth—when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang came to Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"Can you believe it?" Nicholas said as he, Harry and Isabelle were walking up the steps, following behind Durmstrang. "Viktor Krum."

"You should get his autograph, Nicholas," Isabelle suggested with a grin. "Heaven knows you'll be going on about that."

"He's just a Quidditch player," a new voice said from beside Isabelle.

Harry turned his head to see who the voice belonged to. Hermione; she had approached them again, though she still looked miffed over the _S.P.E.W. _

"Not _just _a Quidditch player," Isabelle pointed out. "He's a _very good _Quidditch player."

"A brilliant Quidditch player!" Nicholas intervened as they entered the Great Hall.

"_I'm _going to go over to the Gryffindor table," Hermione announced, "Isabelle, can I talk to you later about something?"

Isabelle nodded, giving Hermione a brief grin. "Sure. Bye."

Harry took his seat at the Slytherin table; Nicholas sat beside him, whilst Isabelle sat in front of the two boys.

"Look, Durmstrang is coming to sit over here, at the Slytherin table," Isabelle pointed out, craning her neck to try to get a better look. "Oh, Viktor Krum's sitting over by Draco Malfoy."

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, as the Great Hall slowly began to quiet. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.

"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued. "I now invite you to eat drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The dishes in front of them filled with food, and Nicholas inspected one curiously.

"What type of food is this? There's…"

"I don't know," Isabelle said, peering at the dish, as well.

"Maybe it's something that the Beauxbaton or Durmstrang students eat," Harry suggested. He suddenly winced. "Ohh, I forgot about Nath—_Slyther._ I should go check on him after. I can't believe I forgot about him…"

Nicholas chuckled.

Dumbledore stood up once more, as soon as the food on the dishes had disappeared. The Great Hall eventually began to grow silent once more.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore started. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring the casket, just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation" – the Great Hall filled with polite applause, although when the next name was announced, it became much more louder and enthusiastic - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

Dumbledore paused, before continuing.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore, as Filch came in, placing a chest on the table before him.  
"They have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament," Dumbledore continued on, rather calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector ... the Goblet of Fire."

Then Dumbledore pulled out his wand, tapping the top of the chest three times. It opened, and Dumbledore retrieved a wooden cup, lit with blue-white flames. He closed the chest and placed the Goblet of Fire on top.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore said, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

Dumbledore finished, and everybody in the hall started to rise. A loud chatter filled the air. Nicholas was glowing with excitement.

"This is going to be a good year," he said lightly to Harry. "I think it is."

Harry nodded in agreement, though he began to frown as Draco Malfoy approached them. His eyes skimmed over Nicholas and Harry, eventually landing on Isabelle, who began to look uncomfortable.

A funny expression crossed Draco's face as he narrowed his eyes at Isabelle, studying her. A smirk slowly pulled at the side of his lips.

"What would they say?" Draco said to Isabelle, who began to noticeably pale. He raised his eyebrows quickly while the smirk remained on his face—though, it was quick, almost inconspicuous.

And then he left.

"What was that about?" Nicholas demanded, looking at Isabelle in confusion. "What did Malfoy mean?"

"I don't know," Isabelle mumbled, shaking her head. She forced a smile, though Harry could tell that it was forced, because it was shaky and rather nervous-looking. "I have to go find Hermione now. I'll be quick."

Nicholas stood, looking at the empty spot where Isabelle had once been, as everyone around he and Harry began to go back to their common room.

"Come on," Harry said, tugging on Nicholas's elbow gently. "Why don't you go to the common room, and I'll come, too, after I go down to my Dad's chambers?"

Nicholas nodded slowly, following the rest of the students out of the hall.

--

"You forgot me," Nathaniel repeated when Harry had went down to the chambers, looking apologetic. "Well. I—I suppose, you must have a lot going on."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to… to give me _loads _of grief over forgetting you? You have changed, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel grinned. It slowly began to fade, though as he spoke. "I'm growing as a person. Look, Harry, I just… wanted to point out to you that… I'm not here just because I'm not with Amaryllis anymore. I'm here because I _missed _being here."

Harry nodded, giving a grin. "You and Syther _are _being fed, right? And you two get along?"

"Yes and… surprisingly, yes," Nathaniel answered. "He's good company, considering that Snape always ignores me. He's not company at _all._"

"All right," Harry said. "I should go, though. I'll come see you again after, OK?"

Nathaniel nodded, and Harry left his bedroom to be greeted by Severus, who opened his mouth and was about to say something before Harry quickly intervened.

"I know, I know! It's late, you should be in your dorm and in bed," Harry said. "I'm leaving, right now. Goodnight."

Severus gave Harry a look. "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry smiled, leaving the chambers. As he made his way down the corridor, though, he heard hushed voices up ahead. He held his breath, trying to listen, because these voices were familiar…

And then, as he drew closer, he knew who the voices belonged to.

-

"A professor is going to find us," Isabelle said, frowning as she nervously looked around. "We'll be in trouble, and get a detention, and it's going to be _your _fault."

"I just need to say this," Hermione said, returning the frown. She stood in front of Isabelle, though she looked just as nervous. "You have to listen to me, Isabelle."

"I am," said Isabelle. Now she was just looking irritated. "Go on, Hermione, I'm tired."

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione whispered, looking hurt. "You're only thirteen, and… I know, Isabelle."

Isabelle paled.

"It's none of your business, Hermione," Isabelle said in a shaky voice. She wrung her hands nervously. "It was an accident. That's why you started going around with Ginny Weasley, isn't it? You didn't want to be seen around me anymore?"

"It was _not _an accident. You knew exactly what you were doing!" Hermione pointed out. "It was that Caoimhe Aureus, wasn't it? She got you into it?"

"How many other people know?" Isabelle shot back. "How many people did you tell? I bet Nicholas knows about it now—and Harry too, am I right?"

"No, you're not," Hermione said, scowling. "I saw Draco Malfoy come up to you, though, Isabelle. What did he say to you? Does he know too?"

Isabelle's voice lowered, until it was barely audible. "He said 'What would they say?' I—I don't know how he'd know… Hermione, it was a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Tell me that you'll stop going around Caoimhe Aureus," Hermione said softly, "and tell me that you won't follow in her steps. That you're a different Slytherin, like Harry and your brother."

"I am," Isabelle said, just as softly. "I'm not going to be a follower of You-Know-Who. Caoimhe… she just… was telling me things, and—and showed me a dark spell, b—but I'm not going into the dark arts. I'm not."

Hermione gave Isabelle a hard look. "I hope you don't, Isabelle. I thought you were different—a different Slytherin. Please don't prove me wrong."

"I won't," Isabelle said hoarsely.

Hermione slowly began to walk away, and Harry, from behind a corner, watched as Isabelle slowly let out a shuddering breath, and then collected herself. Wiping her eyes, she lifted her chin and began to walk back to the Slytherin common room.

There was something different in the way she looked, Harry thought as he studied her retreating figure. He didn't like what he had just overheard. In fact, he felt shocked by it all. Isabelle… she would never turn into one of Voldemort's followers. Never… never a Death Eater. Even if she _was _a Slytherin, he was a Slytherin too, and there was no way he'd join sides with Voldemort.

He was the one who was going to _destroy _Voldemort.

Harry hoped that Hermione was right, that Isabelle would turn out to be a _different _Slytherin.

Though, there was a slight chance that Isabelle Nixon might just prove Hermione wrong, like Hermione had begged her not to.

There was no telling what would happen…

-

A/N: Until the next time…


End file.
